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COLONEL  CARTER 
OF  CARTERSVILLE 


BY  F.  HOPKINSON  SMITH 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  E.  W.  KEMBLE  AND 
THE  AUTHOR 


M.  A.  DONOHUE  & COMPANY 

CHICAGO  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1891, 

Bi  F.  FIopkinson  Smith,  and  Houghton,  Mifflin  & Co. 


All  rignts  reserved 


Contents  and  List  of  Illustrations 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

“ My  fire  is  my  friend ” . . Frontispiece . 

I.  The  Colonel’s  House  in  Bedford  Place  . i 

The  Street  Entrance 3 

Chad  “ dishin’  the  Dinner  ” ....  13 

Gentlemen,  a true  Southern  lady  ” 16 

Fitz , 19 

1L  The  Garden  Spot  of  Virginia  seeks  an 

Outlet  to  the  Sea.  ...  25 

“Chad  was  groaning  under  a square  wicker 

basket  ” 26 

“ The  little  negroes  around  the  door  ” . 46 

HI.  An  Old  Family  Servant  ....  49 

“ Who ’s  that  ? ” 53 

The  old  Clock  Tower 61 

Mister  Grocerman 76 

IV.  The  Arrival  of  a True  Southern  Lady  78 

V.  An  Allusion  to  a Yellow  Dog  ...  99 

The  Colonel’s  Office 100 

The  Advance  Agent 104 

The  Nervous  Man 108 

VI.  Certain  Important  Letters  . . . in 

u Like  an  ebony  Statue  of  Liberty  ” . . 123 

VII.  The  Outcome  of  a Council  of  War  . 126 
u Down  a flight  of  stone  steps  ”...  143 


vi  Contents  and  List  of  illustrations 


VIII.  A High  Sense  of  Honor  . . . .145 

“Klutchem  looked  at  him  in  perfect  astonish- 


ment” .......  152 

IX.  A Visit  of  Ceremony 154 

The  Colonel’s  Door 154 

X.  Chad  in  Search  of  a Coal-Field  . . 165 

XI.  Chad  on  his  own  Cabin  Floor  „ c 180 

Polishing  the  Parlor  Floor  • • • .181 

Henny 187 

Some  Stray  Pickaninnies 191 

XII.  The  Englishman’s  Check  . • « • 39S. 


COLONEL  CARTER  OF  CAR- 
TERSVILLE 

CHAPTER  I 

The  Colonel’s  House  in  Bedford  Place 

The  dinner  was  at  the  colonel’s  — an 
old-fashioned,  partly  furnished,  two-story 
house  nearly  a century  old  which  crouches 
down  behind  a larger  and  more  modem 
dwelling  fronting  on  Bedford  Place  within 
a stone’s  throw  of  the  tall  clock  tower  of 
Jefferson  Market. 

The  street  entrance  to  this  curious  abode 
is  marked  by  a swinging  wooden  gate 
opening  into  a narrow  tunnel  which  dodges 
under  the  front  house.  It  is  an  uncanny 
sort  of  passageway,  mouldy  and  wet  from  a 
long-neglected  leak  overhead,  and  is  lighted 
at  night  by  a rusty  lantern  with  dingy  glass 
sides. 

On  sunny  days  this  gruesome  tunnel 
frames  from  the  street  a delightful  picture 


2 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


of  a bit  of  the  yard  beyond,  with  the  quaint 
colonial  door  and  its  three  steps  let  down 
in  a welcoming  way.  ^ 

Its  retired  location  and  shabby  entrance 
brought  it  quite  within  the  colonel’s  in- 
come, and  as  the  rent  was  not  payable  in 
advance,  and  the  landlord  patient,  he  had 
surrounded  himself  not  only  with  all  the 
comforts  but  with  many  of  the  luxuries  of 
a more  pretentious  home.  In  this  he  was 
assisted  by  his  negro  servant  Chad,  — an 
abbreviation  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  — who 
was  chambermaid,  cook,  butler,  body-ser- 
vant, and  boots,  and  who  by  his  marvelous 
tales  of  the  magnificence  of  “ de  old  fambly 
place  in  Caartersville”  had  established  a 
credit  among  the  shopkeepers  on  the  ave- 
nue which  would  have  been  denied  a much 
more  solvent  customer. 

To  this  hospitable  retreat  I wended  my 
way  in  obedience  to  one  of  the  colonel’s 
characteristic  notes : — 

No.  51  Bedford  Place. 

Friday . 

Everything  is  booming — Fitz  says  the 
scheme  will  take  like  the  measles  — dinner  to- 
morrow at  six — don’t  be  late. 

Carter. 

The  colonel  had  written  several  similar 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


3 


notes  that  week,  — I lived  but  a few  streets 
away,  — all  on  the  spur  of  the  moment, 
and  all  expressive  of  his  varying  moods  and 
wants  ; the  former  suggested  by  his  un- 
bounded enthusiasm  over  his  new  railroad 
scheme,  and  the  latter  by  such  requests  as 
these : “ Will  you  lend  me  half  a dozen 
napkins  — mine  are  all  in  the  wash,  and 
I want  enough  to  carry  me  over  Sunday. 
Chad  will  bring,  with  your  permission,  the 
extra  pair  o * andirons  you  spoke  of.”  Or, 
"Kindly  hand  Chad  the  two  magazines 
and  a corkscrew.” 

Of  course  Chad  alwavs  tucked  therp 


4 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


under  his  arm,  and  carried  them  away,  for 
nobody  ever  refused  the  colonel  anything 
— nobody  who  loved  him.  As  for  himself, 
he  would  have  been  equally  generous  in 
return,  and  have  emptied  his  house,  and 
even  his  pocketbook,  in  my  behalf,  had  that 
latter  receptacle  been  capable  of  further 
effort.  Should  this  have  been  temporarily 
overstrained,  — and  it  generally  was,  — he 
would  have  promptly  borrowed  the  amount 
of  the  nearest  friend,  and  then  have  rubbed 
his  hands  and  glowed  all  day  with  delight 
at  being  able  to  relieve  my  necessity. 

“ I am  a Virginian,  suh.  Command  me/? 
was  his  way  of  putting  it. 

So  to-night  I pushed  open  the  swinging 
door,  felt  my  way  along  the  dark  passage, 
and  crossed  the  small  yard  choked  with 
snow  at  the  precise  minute  when  the  two 
hands  of  the  great  clock  in  the  tall  tower 
pointed  to  six. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Chad. 

“ Walk  right  in,  suh  ; de  colonel  *s  in  de 
dinin’-room.” 

Chad  was  wrong.  The  colonel  was  at 
that  moment  finishing  his  toilet  upstairs, 
in  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  his  “ dress- 
ing-room,^” his  cheery  voice  announcing 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


5 


that  fact  over  the  balusters  as  soon  as  he 
heard  my  own,  coupled  with  the  additional 
information  that  he  would  be  down  in  five 
minutes. 

What  a cosy  charming  interior,  this  din- 
ing-room of  the  colonel’s ! It  had  once 
been  two  rooms,  and  two  very  small  ones  at 
that,  divided  by  folding  doors.  From  out 
the  rear  one  there  had  opened  a smaller 
room  answering  to  the  space  occupied  by 
the  narrow  hall  and  staircase  in  front.  All 
the  interior  partitions  and  doors  dividing 
these  three  rooms  had  been  knocked  away 
at  some  time  in  its  history,  leaving  an  L 
interior  having  two  windows  in  front  and 
three  in  the  rear. 

Some  one  of  its  former  occupants,  more 
luxurious  than  the  others,  had  paneled  the 
walls  of  this  now  irregular-shaped  apart- 
ment with  a dark  wood  running  half  way 
to  the  low  ceiling  badly  smoked  and  black- 
ened by  time,  and  had  built  two  fireplaces 
— an  open  wood  fire  which  laughed  at  me 
from  behind  my  own  andirons,  and  an  old- 
fashioned  English  grate  set  into  the  chim- 
ney with  wide  hobs  — convenient  and  nec- 
essary for  the  various  brews  and  mixtures 
for  which  the  colonel  was  famous. 


6 Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 

Midway,  equally  warmed  by  both  fires, 
stood  the  table,  its  centre  freshened  by  a 
great  dish  of  celery  white  and  crisp,  with 
covers  for  three  on  a snow-white  cloth  re^ 
splendent  in  old  India  blue,  while  at  each 
end  shone  a pair  of  silver  coasters,  — heir- 
looms from  Carter  Hall, — one  holding  a 
cut-glass  decanter  of  Madeira,  the  other 
awaiting  its  customary  bottle  of  claret. 

On  the  hearth  before  the  wood  fire 
rested  a pile  of  plates,  also  India  blue,  and 
on  the  mantel  over  the  grate  stood  a row 
of  bottles  adapting  themselves,  like  all  good 
foreigners,  to  the  rigors  of  our  climate. 
Add  a pair  of  silver  candelabra  with  can- 
dles, — the  colonel  despised  gas,  — dark 
red  curtains  drawn  close,  three  or  four  easy 
chairs,  a few  etchings  and  sketches  loaned 
from  my  studio,  together  with  a modest 
sideboard  at  the  end  of  the  L,  and  you 
have  the  salient  features  of  a room  so  in- 
viting and  restful  that  you  wanted  life 
made  up  of  one  long  dinner,  continually 
served  within  its  hospitable  walls. 

But  I hear  the  colonel  calling  down  the 
back  stairs : — 

“ Not  a minute  over  eighteen,  Chad* 
You  ruined  those  ducks  last  Sunday.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  7 


The  next  moment  he  had  me  by  both 
hands. 

“ My  dear  Major,  I am  pa’alized  to  think 
I kep’  you  waitin’.  Just  up  from  my  office. 
Been  workin’  like  a slave,  suh.  Only  five 
minutes  to  dress  befo’  dinner.  Have  a 
drop  of  sherry  and  a dash  of  bitters,  or 
shall  we  wait  for  Fitzpatrick  ? No  ? All 
right ! He  should  have  been  here  befo’ 
this.  You  don’t  know  Fitz  ? Most  extraor- 
d’nary  man  ; a great  mind,  suh  ; literature, 
science,  politics,  finance,  everything  at 
his  fingers’  ends.  He  has  been  of  the 
greatest  service  to  me  since  I have  been 
in  New  York  in  this  railroad  enterprise, 
which  I am  happy  to  say  is  now  reachin’  a 
culmination.  You  shall  hear  all  about  it 
after  dinner.  Put  yo’  body  in  that  chair 
and  yo’  feet  on  the  fender — my  fire  and 
yo’  fender!  No,  Fitz’s  fender  and  yo’  and- 
irons ! Charmin’  combination  ! ” 

It  is  always  one  of  my  delights  to  watch 
t tie  colonel  as  he  busies  himself  about  the 
room,  warming  a big  chair  for  his  guests, 
punching  the  fire,  brushing  the  sparks  from 
the  pile  of  plates,  and  testing  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  claret  lovingly  with  the  palms 
of  his  hands. 


$ Colonel  Carter  of  CartersviUe 


He  is  perhaps  fifty  years  of  age,  tall  and 
slightly  built.  His  iron  gray  hair  is  brushed 
straight  back  from  his  forehead,  overlap- 
ping his  collar  behind.  His  eyes  are  deep- 
set  and  twinkling ; nose  prominent ; cheeks 
slightly  sunken ; brow  wide  and  high  ; and 
chin  and  jaw  strong  and  marked.  His 
moustache  droops  over  a firm,  well -cut 
mouth  and  unites  at  its  ends  with  a gray 
goatee  which  rests  on  his  shirt  front. 

Like  most  Southerners  living  away  from 
great  cities  his  voice  is  soft  and  low,  and 
tempered  with  a cadence  that  is  delicious. 

He  wears  a black  broadcloth  coat,  — a 
double-breasted  garment,  — with  similar 
colored  waistcoat  and  trousers,  a turn-down 
collar,  a shirt  of  many  plaits  which  is  un- 
der-starched and  over-wrinkled  but  always 
clean,  large  cuffs  very  much  frayed,  a nar- 
row black  or  white  tie,  and  low  shoes  with 
white  cotton  stockings. 

This  black  broadcloth  coat,  by  the  way, 
is  quite  the  most  interesting  feature  of  the 
colonel’s  costume.  So  many  changes  are 
constantly  made  in  its  general  make-up 
that  you  never  quite  believe  it  is  the  same 
ill-buttoned,  shiny  garment  until  you  be- 
come familiar  with  its  possibilities. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


9 


When  the  colonel  has  a funeral  or  other 
serious  matter  on  his  mind,  this  coat  is 
buttoned  close  up  under  his  chin  showing 
only  the  upper  edge  of  his  white  collar,  his 
gaunt  throat  and  the  stray  end  of  a black 
cravat.  When  he  is  invited  to  dinner  he 
buttons  it  lower  down,  revealing  as  well  a 
bit  of  his  plaited  shirt,  and  when  it  is  a 
wedding  this  old  stand-by  is  thrown  wide 
open  discovering  a stiff,  starched,  white 
waistcoat  with  ivory  buttons  and  snowy 
neck-cloth. 

These  several  make-ups  used  once  to 
surprise  me,  and  I often  found  myself  in- 
sisting that  the  looseness  and  grace  with 
which  this  garment  flapped  about  the  colo- 
ners thin  legs  was  only  possible  in  a brand- 
new  coat  having  all  the  spring  and  light- 
ness of  youth  in  its  seams.  I was  always 
mistaken.  I had  only  to  look  at  the  mis- 
mated  buttons  and  the  raveled  edge  of  the 
lining  fringing  the  tails.  It  was  the  same 
coat. 

The  colonel  wore  to-night  the  lower- 
button  style  with  the  white  tie.  It  was 
indeed  the  adjustment  of  this  necessary 
article  which  had  consumed  the  five  min- 
utes passed  in  his  dressing-room,  slightly 


jo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersvihe 


lengthened  by  the  time  necessary  to  trim 
his  cuffs  — a little  nicety  which  he  rarely 
overlooked  and  which  it  mortified  him  to 
forget. 

What  a frank,  generous,  tender-hearted 
fellow  he  is  : happy  as  a boy  ; hospitable 
to  the  verge  of  beggary ; enthusiastic  as 
he  is  visionary ; simple  as  he  is  genuine. 
A Virginian  of  good  birth,  fair  education, 
and  limited  knowledge  of  the  world  and 
of  men,  proud  of  his  ancestry,  proud  of 
his  State,  and  proud  of  himself ; believing 
in  states'  rights,  slavery,  and  the  Confed- 
eracy ; and  away  down  in  the  bottom  of 
his  soul  still  clinging  to  the  belief  that 
the  poor  white  trash  of  the  earth  includes 
about  everybody  outside  of  Fairfax  County. 

With  these  antecedents  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  his  “reconstruction”  is  as  hopeless 
as  that  of  the  famous  Greek  frieze,  out- 
wardly whole  and  yet  always  a patchwork. 
So  he  chafes  continually  under  what  he 
believes  to  be  the  tyranny  and  despotism 
of  an  undefined  autocracy,  which,  in  a gen- 
eral way,  he  calls  “ the  Government,”  but 
which  really  refers  to  the  distribution  of 
certain  local  offices  in  his  own  immediate 
vicinity. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  / 1 


When  he  hands  you  his  card  it  bears 
this  unabridged  inscription  : — 

Colonel  George  Fairfax  Carter, 
of  Carter  Hall, 

Cartersville,  Virginia. 

He  omits  “ United  States  of  America,” 
simply  because  it  would  add  nothing  to  his 
identity  or  his  dignity. 

“There's  Fitz,”  said  the  colonel  as  a 
sharp  double  knock  sounded  at  the  outer 
gate ; and  the  next  instant  a stout,  thick- 
set, round-faced  man  of  forty,  with  merry, 
bead-like  eyes  protected  by  big-bowed 
spectacles,  pushed  open  the  door,  and 
peered  in  good-humoredly. 

The  colonel  sprang  forward  and  seized 
him  by  both  shoulders. 

“ What  the  devil  do  you  mean,  Fitz,  by 
cornin'  ten  minutes  late  ? Don't  you  know, 
suh,  that  the  burnin'  of  a canvasback  is  a 
crime  ? 

“ Stuck  in  the  snow  ? Well,  I 'll  forgive 
you  this  once,  but  Chad  won't.  Give  me 
yo'  coat  — bless  me  ! it  is  as  wet  as  a setter 
dog.  Now  put  yo'  belated  carcass  into 
this  chair  which  I have  been  warmin’  for 
you,  right  next  to.  my  dearest  old  friend. 


12  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


the  Major.  Major,  Fitz ! — Fitz,  the 
Major ! Take  hold  of  each  other.  Does 
my  heart  good  to  get  you  both  together. 
Have  you  brought  a copy  of  the  prospectus 
of  our  railroad  ? You  know  I want  the 
Major  in  with  us  on  the  groun'  flo'.  But 
after  dinner  — not  a word  befo'.” 

This  railroad  was  the  colonel's  only  hope 
for  the  impoverished  acres  of  Carter  Hall, 
but  lately  saved  from  foreclosure  by  the 
generosity  of  his  aunt,  Miss  Nancy  Carter, 
who  had  redeemed  it  with  almost  all  her 
savings,  the  house  and  half  of  the  outly- 
ing lands  being,  thereupon,  deeded  to  her. 
The  other  half  reverted  to  the  colonel. 

I explained  to  Fitz  immediately  after  his 
hearty  greeting  that  I was  a humble  land- 
scape painter,  and  not  a major  at  all,  having 
not  the  remotest  connection  with  any  mili- 
tary organization  whatever ; but  that  the 
colonel  always  insisted  upon  surrounding 
himself  with  a staff,  and  that  my  promotion 
was  in  conformity  with  this  habit. 

The  colonel  laughed,  seized  the  poker, 
and  rapped  three  times  on  the  floor.  A 
voice  from  the  kitchen  rumbled  up  : — 

“ Cornin',  sah  ! " 

It  was  Chad  “ dishin'  the  dinner  " below, 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  / 5 


his  explanations  increasing  in  distinctness 
as  he  pushed  the  rear  door  open  with  his 
foot,  — both  hands  being  occupied  with  the 
soup  tureen  which  he  bore  aloft  and  placed 
at  the  head  of  the  table. 


In  a moment  more  he  retired  to  the 
outer  hall  and  reappeared  brilliant  in  white 
jacket  and  apron.  Then  he  ranged  him- 
self behind  the  colonel's  chair  and  with 
great  dignity  announced  that  dinner  was 
served. 


7 4 Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersviile 


“Come,  Major!  Fitz,  sit  where  you 
can  warm  yo’  back — you  are  not  thawed 
out  yet.  One  minute,  gehtlemen,  — an  old 
custom  of  my  ancestors  which  I never 
omit.” 

The  blessing  was  asked  with  becoming 
reverence ; there  was  a slight  pause,  and 
then  the  colonel  lifted  the  cover  of  the  tu- 
reen and  sent  a savory  cloud  of  incense  to 
the  ceiling. 

The  soup  was  a cream  of  something  with 
baby  crabs.  There  was  also  a fish,  — 
boiled,  — with  slices  of  hard  boiled  eggs 
fringing  the  dish,  ovaled  by  a hedge  of 
parsley  and  supplemented  by  a pyramid 
of  potatoes  with  their  jackets  ragged  as 
tramps.  Then  a ham,  brown  and  crisp,  and 
bristling  all  over  with  cloves. 

Then  the  ducks ! 

It  was  beautiful  to  see  the  colonel’s  face 
when  Chad,  with  a bow  like  a folding  jack- 
knife, held  this  dish  before  him. 

“ Lay  ’em  here,  Chad  — right  under  my 
nose.  Now  hand  me  that  pile  of  plates 
sizzlin’  hot,  and  give  that  caarvin’  knife  a 
turn  or  two  across  the  hearth.  Major,  dip 
a bit  of  celery  in  the  salt  and  follow  it  with 
a mou’ful  of  claret.  It  will  prepare  yo’  pal* 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  75 


ate  for  the  kind  of  food  we  raise  gentlemen 
on  down  my  way.  See  that  red  blood, 
suh,  followin'  the  knife  ! ” 

“ Suit  you,  marsa  ? ” Chad  never  forgot 
his  slave  days. 

“ To  a turn,  Chad,  — I would  n’t  take  a 
thousand  dollars  for  you,”  replied  the  colo- 
nel, relapsing  as  unconsciously  into  an  old 
habit. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
colonel  loved  a good  dinner.  To  dine  well 
was  with  him  an  inherited  instinct  ; one 
of  the  necessary  preliminaries  to  all  the 
important  duties  in  life.  To  share  with 
you  his  last  crust  was  a part  of  his  reli- 
gion ; to  eat  alone,  a crime. 

“There,  Major,”  said  the  colonel  as 
Chad  laid  the  smoking  plate  before  me,  “ is 
the  breast  of  a bird  that  fo’  days  ago  was 
divin’  for  wild  celery  within  fo’ty  miles  of 
Caarter  Hall.  My  dear  old  aunt  Nancy 
sends  me  a pair  every  week,  bless  her 
sweet  soul ! Fill  yo’  glasses  and  let  us 
drink  to  her  health  and  happiness.”  Here 
the  colonel  rose  from  his  chair : “ Gentle- 
men, the  best  thing  on  this  earth  — a true 
Southern  lady ! 

“ Now,  Chad,  the_red  pepper.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carlersville 


16 


“ No  jelly,  Colonel  ? ” said  Fitz,  with  an 
eye  on  the  sideboard. 

" Jelly  ? No,  suh  ; not  a suspicion  of  it. 
A pinch  of  salt,  a dust  of  cayenne,  then 
shut  yo'  eyes  and  mouth,  and  don't  open 
them  'cept  for  a drop  of  good  red  wine.  It 
is  the  salt  marsh  in  the  early  mornin'  that 
you  are  tastin',  suh,  — not  molasses  candy. 
You  Nawtherners  don't  really  treat  a can- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  17 


vasback  with  any  degree  of  respect.  You 
ought  never  to  come  into  his  presence 
when  he  lies  in  state  without  takin’  off  yo* 
hats.  That  may  be  one  reason  why  he 
skips  over  the  Nawthern  States  when  he 
takes  his  annual  fall  outin’.”  And  he 
laughed  heartily. 

“ But  you  use  it  on  venison  ? ” argued 
Fitz. 

“Venison  is  diff’ent,  suh.  That  game 
lives  on  moose  buds,  the  soft  inner  bark  of 
the  sugar  maple,  and  the  tufts  of  sweet 
grass.  There  is  a propriety  and  justice  in 
his  endin’  his  days  smothered  in  sweets  ; 
bu^  the  wild  duck,  suh,  is  bawn  of  the  salt 
ice,  braves  the  storm,  and  lives  a life  of 
peyil  and  hardship.  You  don’t  degrade  a’ 
oyster,  a soft  shell  crab,  or  a clam  with 
confectionery  ; why  a canvasback  duck  ? 

“ Now,  Chad,  serve  coffee.” 

The  colonel  pushed  back  his  chair,  and 
opened  a drawer  in  a table  on  his  right, 
producing  three  small  clay  pipes  with  reed 
stems  and  a buckskin  bag  of  tobacco.  This 
he  poured  out  on  a plate,  breaking  the 
coarser  grains  with  the  palms  of  his  hands, 
and  filling  the  pipes  with  the  greatest 
care. 


18  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


Fitz  watched  him  curiously,  and  when  he 
reached  for  the  third  pipe,  said  : — 

“No,  Colonel,  none  for  me;  smoke  a 
cigar  — got  a pocketful.” 

“ Smoke  yo’  own  cigars,  will  you,  and  in 
the  presence  of  a Virginian  ? I don't  be- 
lieve  you  have  got  a drop  of  Irish  blood 
left  in  yo'  veins,  or  you  would  take  this 
pipe." 

“ Too  strong  for  me,"  remonstrated  Fitz. 

“Throw  that  villainous  device  away,  I 
say,  Fitz,  and  surprise  yo’  nostrils  with  a 
whiff  of  this.  Virginia  tobacco,  suh,  — 
raised  at  Caartersville,  — cured  by  my  own 
servants.  No  ? Well,  you  will,  Major. 
Here,  try  that ; every  breath  of  it  is  a nose- 
gay,”* said  the  colonel,  turning  to  me. 

“ But,  Colonel,”  continued  Fitz,  with  a 
sly  twinkle  in  his  eye,  “ your  tobacco  pays 
no  tax.  With  a debt  like  ours  it  is  the 
duty  of  every  good  citizen  to  pay  his  share 
of  it.  Half  the  cost  of  this  cigar  goes  to 
the  Government.” 

It  was  a red  flag  to  the  colonel,  and  he 
laid  down  his  pipe  and  faced  Fitz  squarely. 

“Tax!  On  our  own  productions,  suh! 
Raised  on  our  own  land  ! Are  you  again 
forgettin’  that  you  are  an  Irishman  and 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  ig 


becomin’  one  of  these  money-makin’  Yan- 
kees ? Have  n’t  we  suffe’d  enough  — 
robbed  of  our  property,  our  lands  confis- 
cated, our  slaves  torn  from  us ; nothin’ 
left  but  our  honor  and  the  shoes  we  stand 
in!” 

The  colonel  on  cross-examination  could 


not  locate  any  particular  wholesale  robbery, 
but  it  did  not  check  the  flow  of  his  indig- 
nation. 

“ Take,  for  instance,  the  town  of  Caarters- 
ville  : look  at  that  peaceful  village  which 
for  mo’  than  a hundred  years  has  enjoyed 
the  privileges  of  free  government ; and  not 
only  Caartersville,  but  all  our  section  of 
the  State.” 


20  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ Well,  what ’s  the  matter  with  Carters- 
ville ? ” asked  Fitz,  lighting  his  cigar. 

“Mattah,  suh  ! Just  look  at  the  degra- 
dation it  fell  into  hardly  ten  years  ago.  A 
Yankee  jedge  jurisdictin’  our  laws,  a Yan- 
kee sheriff  enfo’cin’  ’em,  and  a Yankee 
postmaster  distributin’  letters  and  sellm’ 
postage  stamps.” 

“ But  they  were  elected  all  right,  Colo- 
nel* and  represented  the  will  of  the  peo- 
ple,35 

“ What  people?  Yo’  people,  not  mine. 
No,  my  dear  Fitz ; the  Administration 
succeeding  the  war  treated  us  shamefully, 
and  will  go  down  to  postehity  as  infa- 
mous.” 

The  colonel  here  left  his  chair  and  began 
pacing  the  floor,  his  indignation  rising  at 
every  step. 

“ To  give  you  an  idea,  suh,”  he  contin- 
ued, “ of  what  we  Southern  people  suffe’d 
immediately  after  the  fall  of  the  Confeder- 
acy, let  me  state  a case  that  came  under 
my  own  observation. 

“ Colonel  Temple  Talcott  of  F’okeer 
County,  Virginia,  came  into  Talcottville 
one  mornin’,  suh,  — a town  settled  by  his 
ancestors,  — ridin’  upon  his  horse  — or 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  21 


rather  a mule  belongin'  to  his  overseer. 
Colonel  Talcott,  suh,  belonged  to  one  of 
the  vehy  fust  families  in  Virginia.  He 
was  a son  of  Jedge  Thaxton  Talcott,  and 
grandson  of  General  Snowden  Stafford 
Talcott  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  Now, 
suh,  let  me  tell  you  right  here  that  the 
Talcott  blood  is  as  blue  as  the  sky,  and 
that  every  gentleman  bearin’  the  name  is 
known  all  over  the  county  as  a man  whose 
honor  is  dearer  to  him  than  his  life,  and 
whose  word  is  as  good  as  his  bond.  Well, 
suh,  on  this  mornin’  Colonel  Talcott  left 
his  plantation  in  charge  of  his  overseer, 
— he  was  workin'  it  on  shares,  — and  rode 
through  his  estates  to  his  ancestral  town, 
some  five  miles  distant.  It  is  true,  suh, 
these  estates  were  no  longer  in  his  name, 
but  that  had  no  bearin’  on  the  events  that 
followed;  he  ought  to  have  owned  them, 
and  would  have  done  so  but  for  some  vehy 
ungentlemanly  fo’closure  proceeding  which 
occurred  immediately  after  the  war. 

“On  arriving  at  Talcottville  the  colonel 
dismounted,  handed  the  reins  to  his  ser- 
vant, — or  perhaps  one  of  the  niggers 
around  the  do’,  — and  entered  the  post-oT 
fice.  Now,  suh,  let  me  tell  you  that  one 


22  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


month  befo',  the  Government,  contrary  to 
the  express  wishes  of  a great  many  of  our 
leadin'  citizens,  had  sent  a Yankee  post- 
master to  Talcottville  to  administer  the 
postal  affairs  of  that  town.  No  sooner  had 
this  man  taken  possession  than  he  began 
to  be  exclusive,  suh,  and  to  put  on  airs. 
The  vehy  fust  air  he  put  on  was  to  build  a 
fence  in  his  office  and  compel  our  people 
to  transact  their  business  through  a hole. 
This  in  itself  was  vehy  gallin',  suh,  for 
up  to  that  time  the  mail  had  always  been 
dumped  out  on  the  table  in  the  stage  office 
and  every  gentleman  had  he’ped  himself. 
The  next  thing  was  the  closin'  of  his  mail 
bags  at  a’  hour  fixed  by  himself.  This 
became  a great  inconvenience  to  our  citi- 
zens, who  were  often  late  in  finishin'  their 
correspondence,  and  who  had  always  found 
our  former  postmaster  willin’  either  to  hold 
the  bag  over  until  the  next  day,  or  to  send 
it  across  to  Drummondtown  by  a boy  to 
catch  a later  train. 

“Well,  suh,  Colonel  Talcott’s  mission  to 
the  post-office  was  to  mail  a letter  to  his 
factor  in  Richmond,  Virginia,  on  business 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  himself,  — 
namely,  the  raisin'  of  a small  loan  upon 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersvilte  23 


his  share  of  the  crop.  Not  the  crop  that 
was  planted,  suh,  but  the  crop  that  he  ex- 
pected to  plant. 

“ Colonel  Talcott  approached  the  hole, 
and  with  that  Chesterfieldian  manner  which 
has  distinguished  the  Talcotts  for  mo’  than 
two  centuries  asked  the  postmaster  for  the 
loan  of  a three-cent  postage  stamp. 

“To  his  astonishment,  suh,  he  was  re- 
fused. 

“Think  of  a Talcott  in  his  own  county 
town  bein'  refused  a three-cent  postage 
stamp  by  a low-lived  Yankee,  who  had 
never  known  a gentleman  in  his  life  ! The 
colonel's  first  impulse  was  to  haul  the 
scoundrel  through  the  hole  and  caarve 
him ; but  then  he  remembered  that  he 
was  a Talcott  and  could  not  demean  him- 
self, and  drawin'  himself  up  again  with  that 
manner  which  was  grace  itself  he  requested 
the  loan  of  a three-cent  postage  stamp 
until  he  should  communicate  with  his  fac- 
tor in  Richmond,  Virginia ; and  again  he 
was  refused.  Well,  suh,  what  was  there 
left  for  a high-toned  Southern  gentleman 
to  do  ? Colonel  Talcott  drew  his  revolver 
and  shot  that  Yankee  scoundrel  through 
the  heart,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot. 


24  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ And  now,  suh,  comes  the  most  remark- 
able part  of  this  story.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  Major  Tom  Yancey,  Jedge  Kerfoot,  and 
myself  there  would  have  been  a lawsuit.” 
Fitz  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  roared. 
“And  they  did  not  hang  the  colonel  ?” 

“ Hang  a Talcott ! No,  suh  ; we  don’t 
hang  gentlemen  down  our  way.  Jedge 
Kerfoot  vehy  properly  charged  the  coro- 
ner’s jury  that  it  was  a matter  of  self-de- 
fense, and  Colonel  Talcott  was  not  de- 
tained mo’  than  haalf  an  hour.” 

The  colonel  stopped,  unlocked  a closet 
in  the  sideboard,  and  produced  a black 
bottle  labeled  in  ink,  “ Old  Cherry  Bounce, 
1848.” 

“You  must  excuse  me,  gentlemen,  but 
the  discussion  of  these  topics  has  quite  un- 
nerved me.  Allow  me  to  share  with  you 
a thimbleful.” 

Fitz  drained  his  glass,  cast  his  eyes  up- 
ward, and  said  solemnly,  “To  the  repose 
of  the  postmaster’s  soul.” 


CHAPTER  II 


The  Garden  Spot  of  Virginia  seeks  an  Outlet 
to  the  Sea 

Chad  was  just  entering  the^small  gate 
which  shut  off  the  underground  passage 
when  I arrived  opposite  the  coloners  cozy 
quarters.  I had  come  to  listen  to  the  de- 
tails of  that  booming  enterprise  with  the 
epidemic  proclivities,  the  discussion  of 
which  had  been  cut  short  by  the  length  of 
time  it  had  taken  to  kill  the  postmaster 
the  night  before. 

It  was  quite  evident  that  the  colonel  ex- 
pected guests,  for  Chad  was  groaning  un- 
der a square  wicker  basket,  containing, 
among  other  luxuries  and  necessities,  half 
a dozen  bottles  of  claret,  a segment  of 
cheese,  and  some  heads  of  lettuce  ; the 
whole  surmounted  by  a clean  leather-cov- 
ered pass-book  inscribed  with  the  name 
and  avenue  number  of  the  confiding  and 
accommodating  grocer  who  supplied  the 
coloners  daily  wants. 


26  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“De  colonel  an’  Misser  Fizpat’ic  bofe 
waitin’  for  you,  sah,”  said  that  obsequious 
darky,  preceding  me  through  the  dark  pas- 
sage. I followed,  mounted  the  old-fash- 
ioned wooden  steps,  and  fell  into  the  out- 


stretched arms  of  the  colonel  before  I 
could  touch  the  knocker. 

“Here  he  is,  Fitz ! ” and  the  next  in- 
stant I was  sharing  with  that  genial  gen- 
tleman the  warmth  of  the  colonel’s  fire. 

“ Now  then,  Chad,”  called  out  the  colo- 
nel, “take  this  lettuce  and  give  it  a dip 
in  the  snow  for  five  minutes ; and  here, 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  2j 


Chad,  befo’  you  go  hand  me  that  claret. 
Bless  my  soul ! it  is  as  cold  as  a dog’s 
nose;  Fitz,  set  it  on  the  mantel.  And 
hurry  down  to  that  mutton,  Chad.  Never 
mind  the  basket.  Leave  it  where  it  is.” 

Chad  chuckled  out  to  me  as  he  closed 
the  door:  “’Spec’  I know  mo’  ’bout  dat 
saddle  den  de  colonel.  It  ain’t  a-burnin’ 
none.”  And  the  colonel,  satisfied  now 
that  Chad’s  hand  had  reached  the  oven 
door  below,  made  a vigorous  attack  on  the 
blazing  logs  with  the  tongs,  and  sent  a 
flight  of  sparks  scurrying  up  the  chimney. 

There  was  always  a glow  and  breeze  and 
sparkle  about  the  colonel’s  fire  that  I found 
nowhere  else.  It  partook  to  a certain  ex- 
tent of  his  personality  — open,  bright,  and 
with  a great  draft  of  enthusiasm  always 
rushing  up  a chimney  of  difficulties,  buoyed 
up  with  the  hope  of  the  broad  clear  of  the 
heaven  of  success  above. 

“ My  fire,”  he  once  said  to  me,  “ is  my 
friend  ; and  sometimes,  my  dear  boy,  when 
you  are  all  away  and  Chad  is  out,  it  seems 
my  only  friend.  After  it  talks  to  me  for 
hours  we  both  get  sleepy  together,  and  I 
cover  it  up  with  its  gray  blanket  of  ashes 
and  then  go  to  bed  myself.  Ah,  Pvlajor! 


28  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


when  you  are  gettin’  old  and  have  no  wife 
to  love  you  and  no  children  to  make  yo* 
heart  glad,  a wood  fire  full  of  honest  old 
logs,  every  one  of  which  is  doing  its  best 
to  please  you,  is  a great  comfort.” 

" Draw  closer,  Major ; vehy  cold  night, 
gentlemen.  We  do  not  have  any  such 
weather  in  my  State.  Fitz,  have  you 
thawed  out  yet  ? ” 

Fitz  looked  up  from  a pile  of  documents 
spread  out  on  his  lap,  his  round  face  aglow 
with  the  firelight,  and  compared  himself  to 
half  a slice  of  toast  well  browned  on  both 
sides. 

“ I am  glad  of  it.  I was  worried  about 
you  when  you  came  in.  You  were  chilled 
through.” 

Then  turning  to  me  : “ Fact  is,  Fitz  is 
a little  overworked.  Enormous  strain,  suh, 
on  a man  solving  the  vast  commercial  prob- 
lems that  he  is  called  upon  to  do  every  day.” 

After  which  outburst  the  colonel  crossed 
the  room  and  finished  unpacking  the 
basket,  placing  the  cheese  in  one  of  the 
empty  plates  on  the  table-  and  the  various 
other  commodities  on  the  sideboard.  When 
he  reached  the  pass-book  he  straightened 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersruille  29 


himself  up,  held  it  off  admiringly,  turned 
the  leaves  slowly,  his  face  lighting  up  at 
the  goodly  number  of  clean  pages  still  be- 
tween its  covers,  and  said  thoughtfully  : — 
“ Very  beautiful  custom,  this  pass-book 
system,  gentlemen,  and  quite  new  to  me. 
One  of  the  most  co’teous  attentions  I have 
received  since  I have  taken  up  my  resi- 
dence Nawth.  See  how  simple  it  is.  I 
send  my  servant  to  the  sto’  for  my  sup- 
plies. He  returns  in  haalf  an  hour  with 
everything  I need,  and  brings  back  this 
book  which  I keep, — remember,  gentlemen, 
which  I keep , — a mark  of  confidence  which 
in  this  degen’rate  age  is  ref  reshin’.  No 
vulgar  bargainin’,  suh  ; no  disagreeable  re- 
marks about  any  former  unsettled  account. 
It  certainly  is  delightful.” 

“ When  are  the  accounts  under  this  sys- 
tem generally  paid,  Colonel,”  asked  Fitz. 

With  the  exception  of  a slight  tremor 
around  the  corners  of  his  mouth  Fitz’s  face 
expressed  nothing  but  the  idlest  interest. 

“ I have  never  inquired,  suh,  and  would 
not  hurt  the  gentleman’s  feelin’s  by  doin’ 
so  for  the  world,”  he  replied  with  dignity. 
“I  presume,  when  the  book  is  full.” 
Whatever  might  have  been  Fitz’s  men- 


jo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


tal  workings,  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
colonel’s.  He  believed  every  word  he  said. 

“ What  a dear  old  trump  the  colonel  is,” 
said  Fitz,  turning  to  me,  his  face  wrin- 
kling all  over  with  suppressed  laughter. 

All  this  time  Chad  was  passing  in  and 
out,  bearing  dishes  and  viands,  and  when 
all  was  ready  and  the  table  candles  were 
lighted,  he  announced  that  fact  softly  to 
his  master  and  took  his  customary  place 
behind  his  chair. 

The  colonel  was  as  delightful  as  ever, 
his  talk  ranging  from  politics  and  family 
blood  to  possum  hunts  and  modern  litera- 
ture, while  the  mutton  and  its  accessories 
did  full  credit  to  Chad’s  culinary  skill. 

In  fact  the  head  of  the  colonel’s  table 
was  his  throne.  Nowhere  else  was  he  so 
charming,  and  nowhere  else  did  the  many 
sides  to  his  delightful  nature  give  out  such 
varied  hues. 

Fitz,  practical  business  man  as  he  was, 
would  listen  to  his  many  schemes  by  the 
hour,  charmed  into  silence  and  attentive 
appreciation  by  the  sublime  faith  that  sus- 
tained his  host,  and  the  perfect  honesty 
and  sincerity  underlying  everything  he 
did. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  j! 


But  it  was  not  until  the  cheese  had  com- 
pletely lost  its  geometrical  form,  the  coffee 
served,  and  the  pipes  lighted,  that  the  sub- 
ject which  of  all  others  absorbed  him  was 
broached.  Indeed,  it  was  a rule  of  the 
coloner s,  never  infringed  upon,  that,  no 
matter  how  urgent  the  business,  the  din- 
ner-hour was  to  be  kept  sacred. 

“ Salt  yo*  food,  suh,  with  humor,”  he 
would  say.  “ Season  it  with  wit,  and 
sprinkle  it  all  over  with  the  charm  of  good- 
fellowship,  but  never  poison  it  with  the 
cares  of  yo’  life.  It  is  an  insult  to  yo’  di- 
gestion, besides  bein’,  suh,  a mark  of  bad 
breedin.” 

“ Now,  Major,”  began  the  colonel,  turn- 
ing to  me,  loosening  the  string  around  a 
package  of  papers,  and  spreading  them  out 
like  a game  of  solitaire,  “draw  yo*  chair 
closer.  Fitz,  hand  me  the  map.” 

A diligent  search  revealed  the  fact  that 
the  map  had  been  left  at  the  office,  and  so 
the  colonel  proceeded  without  it,  appealing 
now  and  then  to  Fitz,  who  leaned  over 
his  chair,  his  arm  on  the  table. 

“ Befo*  I touch  upon  the  financial  part 
of  this  enterprise,  Major,  let  me  show  you 
where  this  road  runs,”  said  the  colonel. 


3 2 Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


reaching  for  the  casters.  “ I am  sorry  I 
haven’t  the  map,  but  we  can  get  along 
very  well  with  this ; ” and  he  unloaded  the 
cruets. 

“ This  mustard-pot,  here,  is  Caarters- 
ville,  . the  startin’ - point  of  our  system. 
This  town,  suh,  has  now  a population  of 
mo’  than  fo’  thousand  people  ; in  five 
years  it  will  have  fo’ty  thousand.  From 
this  point  the  line  follows  the  bank  of  the 
Big- Tench  River  — marked  by  this  caarv- 
in’  - knife  — to  this  salt-cellar,  where  it 
crosses  its  waters  by  an  iron  bridge  of  two 
spans,  each  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet. 
Then,  suh,  it  takes  a sharp  bend  to  the 
southard  and  stops  at  my  estate,  the  road- 
bed skirtin’  within  a convenient  distance 
of  Caarter  Hall. 

“ Please  move  yo’  arm,  Fitz.  I have  n’t 
room  enough  to  lay  out  the  city  of  Fairfax. 
Thank  you. 

“ Just  here,”  continued  the  colonel,  util- 
izing the  remains  of  the  cheese,  “ is  to  be 
the  future  city  of  Fairfax,  named  after  my 
ancestor,  suh,  General  Thomas  Wilmot 
Fairfax  of  Somerset,  England,  who  settled 
here  in  1680.  From  here  we  take  a course 
due  nawth,  stopping  at  Talcottville  eight 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  33 

miles,  and  thence  nawthwesterly  to  War- 
rentown  and  the  broad  Atlantic ; in  all 
fifty  miles.” 

“ Any  connecting  road  at  Warrentown  ? ” 
I asked. 

“ No,  suh,  nor  anywhere  else  along  the 
line.  It  is  absolutely  virgin  country,  and 
this  is  one  of  the  strong  points  of  the 
scheme,  for  there  can  be  no  competition  ; ” 
and  the  colonel  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
and  looked  at  me  with  the  air  of  a man 
who  had  just  informed  me  of  a legacy  of 
half  a million  of  dollars  and  was  watching 
the  effect  of  the  news. 

I preserved  my  gravity,  and  followed  the 
imaginary  line  with  my  eye,  bounding 
from  the  mustard-pot  along  the  carving- 
knife  to  the  salt-cellar  and  back  in  a loop 
to  the  cheese,  and  then  asked  if  the  Big 
Tench  could  not  be  crossed  higher  up,  and 
if  so  why  was  it  necessary  to  build  twelve 
additional  miles  of  road. 

“To  reach  Carter  Hall,”  said  Fitz  qui- 
etly. 

“ Any  advantage  ? ” I asked  in  perfect 
good  faith. 

The  colonel  was  on  his  feet  in  a mo- 
ment. 


34  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ Any  advantage  ? Major,  I am  sur- 
prised at  you  ! A place  settled  mo’  than 
one  hundred  years  ago,  belongin'  to  one  of 
the  vehy  fust  fam'lies  of  Virginia,  not  to 
be  of  any  advantage  to  a new  enterprise 
like  this  ! Why,  suh,  it  will  give  an  air  of 
respectability  to  the  whole  thing  that  no- 
thin' else  could  ever  do.  Leave  out  Caar- 
ter  Hall,  suh,  and  you  pa'alize  the  whole 
scheme.  Am  I not  right,  Fitz  ? " 

“ Unquestionably,  Colonel.  It  is  really 
all  the  life  it  has,"  replied  Fitz,  solemn  as 
a graven  image,  blowing  a cloud  of  smoke 
through  his  nose. 

“ And  then,  suh,"  continued  the  colonel 
with  increasing  enthusiasm,  oblivious  to 
the  point  of  Fitz’s  remark,  “see  the  im- 
provements. Right  here  to  the  eastward 
of  this  cheese  we  shall  build  a round-house 
marked  by  this  napkin-ring,  which  will  ac- 
commodate twelve  locomotives,  construct 
extensive  shops  for  repairs,  and  erect  large 
foundries  and  caar-shops.  Altogether,  suh, 
we  shall  expend  at  this  point  mo'  than  — 
mo'  than  — one  million  of  dollars  ; " and 
the  colonel  threw  back  his  head  and  gazed 
at  the  ceiling,  his  lips  computing  imaginary 
sums. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  55 


“ Befo’  these  improvements  are  complete 
it  will  be  necessary,  of  course,  to  take  care 
of  the  enormous  crowds  that  will  flock  in 
for  a restin’-place.  So  to  the  left  of  this 
napkin-ring,  on  a slightly  risin’  ground,  — 
just  here  where  I raise  the  cloth,  — is 
where  the  homes  of  the  people  will  be 
erected.  I have  the  refusal  ” — here  the 
colonel  lowered  his  voice  — “ of  two  thou- 
sand acres  of  the  best  private-residence 
land  in  the  county,  contiguous  to  this  very 
spot,  which  I can  buy  for  fo’  dollars  an 
acre.  It  is  worth  fo’  dollars  a square  foot 
if  it  is  worth  a penny.  But,  suh,  it  would 
be  little  short  of  highway  rob’ry  to  take 
this  property  at  that  Agger,  and  I shall  ar- 
range with  Fitz  to  include  in  his  prospec- 
tus the  payment  of  one  hundred  dollars 
an  acre  for  this  land,  payable  either  in  the 
common  stock  of  our  road  or  in  the  notes  of 
the  company,  as  the  owners  may  elect.” 

“ But,  Colonel,”  said  I,  with  a sincere 
desire  to  get  at  the  facts,  “ where  is  the 
Golconda  — the  gold  mine  ? Where  do  I 
come  in  ? ” 

“ Patience,  my  dear  Major;  I am  com* 
ing  to  that. 

“Fitz,  read  that  prospectus.” 


36  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ I have,”  said  Fitz,  turning  to  the  colo- 
nel, “ somewhat  modified  your  rough  draft, 
to  meet  the  requirements  of  our  market ; 
but  not  materially.  Of  course  I cannot 
commit  myself  to  any  fixed  earning  capa- 
city until  I go  over  the  ground,  which  we 
will  do  together  shortly.  But”  — raising 
the  candle  to  the  level  of  his  nose  — “ this 
is  as  near  as  I can  come  to  your  ideas 
with  any  hopes  of  putting  the  loan  through 
here.  I have,  as  you  will  see,  left  the  title 
of  the  bond  as  you  wished,  although  the 
issue  is  a novel  one  to  our  Exchange.” 
Then  turning  to  me:  “This  of  course  is 
only  a preliminary  announcement.” 

THE  CARTERSVILLE  AND  WARRENTOWN 
AIR  LINE  RAILROAD. 


The  Garden  Spot  of  Virginia  seeks  an  Outlet 
to  the  Sea. 


CAPITAL  ONE  MILLION  OF  DOLLARS,  DIVIDED 
INTO 

50.000  Founders*  shares  at  ...  . $ 10.00  each 

5.000  Ordinary  “ u ...  . 100.00  “ 


Bonded  Debt  for  Purposes  of  Construction 
only. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  37 


One  Million  of  Dollars 
in 

1,000  First  Mortgage  Bonds  of  $1000.00  each. 


Full  Protection  guaranteed. 


The  undersigned,  Messrs offer  for 

sale  $500, 000.00  of  the  6%  Deferred  Debenture  Bonds 
of  the  C.  & W.  Air  Line  Railroad  at  par  and  accrued 
interest,  together  with  a limited  amount  of  the  ordinary 
shares  ii  50%. 


Subscription  books  close 

Promoters  reserve  the  right  to  advance  prices  without 
further  notice. 

“ There,  Major,  is  a prospectus  that 
caarries  conviction  on  its  vehy  face,”  said 
the  colonel,  reaching  for  the  document. 

I complimented  the  eminent  financier  on 
his  skill,  and  was  about  to  ask  him  what  it 
all  meant,  when  the  colonel,  who  had  been 
studying  it  carefully,  broke  in  with  : — 

“ Fitz,  there  is  one  thing  you  left  out.” 

“ Yes,  I know,  the  name  of  the  banker; 
I have  n’t  found  him  yet.” 

“No,  Fitz;  but  the  words,  * Subscrip- 
tions opened  Simidtaneously  in  New  York, 
London , Richmond,  and  ” — 

“ Cartersville  ? ” suggested  Fitz. 


38  Colonel  Carter  of  ^Carter sville 


“ Certainly,  suh.'' 

“ Any  money  in  Cartersville  ? ” 

“No,  suh,  not  much;  but  we  can  sub- 
scribe , can't  we  ? The  name  and  influence 
of  our  leadin'  citizens  would  give  tone  and 
dignity  to  any  subscription  list.  Think  of 
this,  suh  ! " and  the  colonel  traced  imagi- 
nary inscriptions  on  the  back  of  Fitz’s  pros- 
pectus with  his  forefinger,  voicing  them  as 
he  went  on  : — 

The  Hon.  John  Page  Lownes, 

Member  of  the  State  Legislature  . . 1,000  shares 

The  Hon.  I.  B.  Kerfoot, 

Jedge  of  the  District  Court  of 

Fairfax  County 1,000  shares 

Major  Thomas  C.  Yancey, 

Late  of  the  Confederate  Army  . . . 500  shares 

“ These  gentlemen  are  my  friends,  suh, 
and  would  do  anythin'  to  oblige  me." 

Fitz  sharpened  a lead  pencil  and  without 
a word  inserted  the  desired  amendment. 

The  colonel  studied  the  document  for 
another  brief  moment  and  struck  another 
snag. 

“And,  Fitz,  what  do  you  mean,  by  ‘full 
protection  guaranteed ' ? " 

“To  the  bondholder,  of  course,  — the 
man  who  pays  the  money.' 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartermille  39 


“ What  kind  of  protection  ? ” 

“ Why,  the  right  to  foreclose  the  mort- 
gage when  the  interest  is  not  paid,  of 
course,”  said  Fitz,  with  a surprised  look. 

“ Put  yo*  pencil  through  that  line,  quick 
— none  of  that  for  me.  This  fo’closure 
business  has  ruined  haalf  the  gentlemen 
in  our  county,  suh.  But  for  that  foolish- 
ness two  thirds  of  our  fust  families  would 
still  be  livin'  in  their  homes.  No,  suh, 
strike  it  out ! ” 

“ But,  my  dear  Colonel,  without  that  pro- 
tecting clause  you  could  n't  get  a banker 
to  touch  your  bonds  with  a pair  of  tongs. 
What  recourse  have  they  ? ” 

“ What  reco’se  ? Reorganization,  suh  ! 
A boilin'-down  process  which  will  make 
the  stock  — which  we  practically  give  away 
at  fifty  cents  on  the  dollar  — twice  as  val- 
uable. I appreciate,  my  dear  Fitz,  the  ef- 
fo'ts  which  you  are  makin'  to  dispose  of 
these  secu'ities,  but  you  must  remember 
that  this  plan  is  mine . 

“ Now  Major,"  locking  his  arm  in  mine, 
“ listen ; for  I want  you  both  to  under- 
stand exactly  the  way  in  which  I propose 
to  forward  this  enterprise.  Chad,  bring 
me  three  wine-glasses  and  put  that  Ma- 


40  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


deira  on  the  table — don’t  disturb  that  rail- 
road ! — so. 

“ My  idea,  gentlemen,”  continued  the 
colonel,  filling  the  glasses  himself,  “is  to 
start  this  scheme  honestly  in  the  beginning 
and  avoid  all  dissatisfaction  on  the  part  of 
these  vehy  bondholders  thereafter. 

“ Now,  suh,  in  my  experience  I have  al- 
ways discovered  that  a vehy  general  dissat- 
isfaction is  sure  to  manifest  itself  if  the 
coupons  on  secu’ities  of  this  class  are  not 
paid  when  they  become  due.  As  a gen’ral 
rule  this  interest  money  is  never  earned 
for  the  fust  two  years,  and  the  money  to 
pay  it  with  is  inva’ably  stolen  from  the 
principal.  All  this  dishonesty  I avoid,  suh, 
by  the  issue  of  my -Deferred  Debenture 
Bonds.” 

“How?”  I asked,  seeing  the  colonel 
pause  for  a reply. 

“By  cuttin’  off  the  fust  fo’  coupons. 
Then  everybody  knows  exactly  where  they' 
stand.  They  don’t  expect  anythin’  and 
they  never  get  it.” 

Fitz  gave  one  of  his  characteristic  roars 
and  asked  if  the  fifth  would  ever  be  paid. 

“ I can’t  at  this  moment  answer,  but  we 
hope  it  will.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  41 


“ It  is  immaterial,”  said  Fitz,  wiping  his 
eyes.  “ This  class  of  purchasers  are  all 
Speculators,  and  like  excitement.  The 
very  uncertainty  as  to  this  fifth,  coupon 
gives  interest  to  the  investment,  if  not  to 
the  investor.” 

“ None  of  yo’  Irish  impudence,  suh.  No, 
gentlemen,  the  plan  is  not  only  fair,  but 
reasonable.  Two  years  is  not  a long  period 
of  time  in  which  to  foster  a great  enter- 
prise like  the  C.  & W.  A.  L.  R.  R.,  and  it 
is  for  this  purpose  that  I issue  the  Deferred 
Debentures.  Deferred  — put  off  ; Deben- 
ture — owed.  What  we  owe  we  put  off. 
Simple,  easily  understood,  and  honest. 

“ Now,  suh,”  turning  to  Fitz,  “ if  after 
this  frank  statement  any  graspin’  banker 
seeks  to  trammel  this  enterprise  by  any 
fo’closure  clauses,  he  sha’n’t  have  a bond, 
suh.  I ’ll  take  them  all  myself  fust.” 

Fitz  agreed  to  the  striking  out  of  all 
such  harassing  clauses,  and  the  colonel 
continued  his  inspection. 

“ One  mo’  and  I am  done,  Fitz.  What 
do  you  mean  by  Founders’  shares  ? ” 

“ Shares  for  the  promoters  and  the  first 
subscribers.  They  cost  one  tenth  of  the 
ordinary  shares  and  draw  five  times  as 


42  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersviile 


much  dividend.  It  is  quite  a popular  form 
of  investment.  They,  of  course,  are  not 
sold  until  all  the  bonds  are  disposed  of.” 
“How  many  of  these  Founders’  shares 
are  there  ? ” 

“ Fifty  thousand  at  ten  dollars  each.” 
The  colonel  paused  a moment  and  com- 
muned inwardly  with  himself. 

“ Put  me  down  for  twenty-five  thousand, 
Fitz.  Part  cash,  and  the  balance  in  such 
po’tion  of  my  estate  as  will  be  required  for 
the  purposes  of  the  road.” 

The  colonel  did  not  specify  the  propor- 
tions, but  Fitz  made  a pencil  memorandum 
on  the  margin  of  the  prospectus  with  the 
same  sort  of  respectful  silence  he  would 
have  shown  the  Rothschilds  in  a similar 
transaction,  while  the  colonel  refilled  his 
glass  and  held  it  between  his  nose  and  the 
candle. 

“ And  now,  Major,  what  shall  we  reserve 
for  you  ? ” said  he,  laying  his  hand  on  my 
shoulder.  Before  I could  reply  Fitz  raised 
his  finger,  looked  at  me  significantly  over 
the  rims  of  his  spectacles,  and  said  : — 

“ With  your  permission,  Colonel,  the 
Major  and  I will  divide  the  remaining 
twenty-five  thousand  between  ourselves.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  4 ) 


Then  seeing  my  startled  look,  “ I will 
give  you  ample  notice,  Major,  before  the 
first  partial  payment  is  called  in.” 

“ You  overwhelm  me,  gentlemen,”  said 
the  colonel,  rising  from  his  seat  and  seizing 
us  by  the  hands.  “It  has  been  the  dream 
of  my  life  to  have  you  both  with  me  in  this 
enterprise,  but  I had  no  idea  it  would  be 
realized  so  soon.  Fill  yo'  glasses  and  join 
me  in  a sentiment  that  is  dear  to  me  as 
my  life, — ‘The  Garden  Spot  of  Virginia 
in  search  of  an  Outlet  to  the  Sea.’  ” 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  exhilarat- 
ing than  the  colonel's  manner  after  this. 
His  enthusiasm  became  so  contagious  that 
I began  to  feel  something  like  a millionaire 
myself,  and  to  wonder  whether  this  were 
not  the  opportunity  of  my  life.  Fitz  was 
so  far  affected  that  he  recanted  to  a cer- 
tain extent  his  disbelief  in  the  omission  of 
the  foreclosure  clause,  and  even  expressed 
himself  as  being  hopeful  of  getting  around 
it  in  some  way. 

As  for  the  colonel,  the  railroad  was  to 
him  already  a fixed  fact.  He  could  really 
shut  his  eyes  at  any  time  and  hear  the 
whistle  of  the  down  train  nearing  the 
bridge  over  the  Tench.  Such  trifling  de* 


44  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


tails  as  the  finding  of  a banker  who  would 
attempt  to  negotiate  the  loan,  the  subset 
quent  selling  of  the  securities,  and  the 
minor  items  of  right  of  way,  construction, 
etc.,  were  matters  so  light  and  trivial  as  not 
to  cause  him  a moment's  uneasiness.  Car- 
tersville was  to  him  the  centre  of  the  earth, 
hampered  and  held  back  by  lack  of  proper 
connections  with  the  outlying  portions  of 
the  universe.  What  mattered  the  rest  ? 

“ Make  a memorandum,  Fitz,  to  have 
me  send  for  a bridge  engineer  fust  thing 
after  I get  to  my  office  in  the  mornin’. 
There  will  be  some  difficulty  in  gettin'  a 
proper  foundation  for  the  centre-pier  of 
that  bridge,  and  some  one  should  be  sent 
at  once  to  make  a survey.  We  can't  be 
delayed  at  this  point  a day.  And,  Fitz, 
while  I think  of  it,  there  should  be  a 
wagon  bridge  at  or  near  this  iron  structure, 
and  the  timber  might  as  well  be  gotten  out 
now.  It  will  facilitate  haulin'  supplies  into 
Fairfax  city." 

Fitz  thought  so  too,  and  made  a second 
memorandum  to  that  effect,  recording  the 
suggestion  very  much  as  a private  secre- 
tary would  an  order  from  his  railroad  mag- 
nate. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  45 


The  colonel  gave  this  last  order  with 
coat  thrown  open,  — thumbs  in  his  vest,  — 
back  to  the  fire,  — an  attitude  never  in- 
dulged in  except  on  rare  occasions,  and 
then  only  when  the  very  weight  of  the 
problem  necessitated  a corresponding  bra- 
cing up,  and  more  breathing  room. 

These  attitudes,  by  the  way,  were  very 
suggestive  of  the  colonel's  varying  moods. 
Sometimes,  when  he  came  home,  tired  out 
with  the  hard  pavements  of  the  city,  so 
different  from  the  soft  earth  of  his  native 
roads,  I would  find  him  bunched  up  in  his 
chair  in  the  twilight ; face  in  hands,  el- 
bows on  knees,  crooning  over  the  fire,  the 
silver  streaks  in  his  hair  glistening  in  the 
flickering  firelight,  b hiding  castles  in  the 
glowing  coals,  — the  >ld  manor  house  re- 
stored and  the  barns  rebuilt,  the  gates  re- 
hung, the  old  quarters  repaired,  the  little 
negroes  again  around  the  doors ; and  he 
once  more  catching  the  sound  of  the  yel- 
low-painted coach  on  the  gravel,  with  Chad 
helping  the  dear  old  aunt  down  the  porch 
steps.  This,  deep  down  in  the  bottom  of 
his  soul,  was  really  the  dream  and  purpose 
of  bis  life. 

It  never*  seemed  nearer  of  realization 


46  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


than  now.  The  very  thought  suffused  his 
whole  being  with  a suppressed  joy,  visible 
in  his  face  even  when  he  began  loosening 
the  two  lower  buttons  of  his  old  thread- 
bare coat,  throwing  back  the  lapels  and 


slowly  extending  his  fingers  fan-like  over 
his  dilating  chest. 

I always  knew  what  suddenly  sweetened 
his  smile  from  one  of  triumphant  pride  to 
one  of  tenderness. 

“And  the  old  home,  Fitz,  something 
must  be  done  there ; we  must  receive  our 
friends  properly.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  4 7 


Fitz  agreed  to  everything,  offering  an 
amendment  here,  and  a suggestion  there,  un- 
til our  host's  enthusiasm  reached  fever  heat. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  before  the  colo- 
nel had  confided  to  Fitz  all  the  pressing 
necessities  of  the  coming  day.  Even  then 
he  followed  us  both  to  the  door,  with  part- 
ing instructions  to  Fitz,  saying  over  and 
over  again  that  it  had  been  the  happiest 
night  of  his  life.  And  he  would  have  gone 
bare-headed  to  the  outer  gate  had  not  Chad 
caught  him  half  way  down  the  steps,  thrown 
a coat  over  his  head  and  shoulders,  and 
gently  led  him  back  with  : — 

“’Clar  to  goodness,  Marsa  George,  what 
kind  foolishness  dis  yer  ? Is  you  tryin’  to 
ketch  yo’  death  ? ” 

Once  on  the  outside  and  the  gate  shut, 
Fitz’s  whole  manner  changed.  He  became 
suddenly  thoughtful,  and  did  not  speak  un- 
til we  reached  the  tall  clock  tower  with  its 
full  moon  of  a face  shining  high  up  against 
the  black  winter  night. 

Then  he  stood  still,  looked  out  over  the 
white  street,  dotted  here  and  there  with 
belated  wayfarers  trudging  home  through 
the  snow,  and  said  with  a tremor  in  his 
voice  which  startled  me  : ™ 


48  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ I could  n’t  raise  a dollar  in  a lunatic 
asylum  full  of  millionaires  on  a scheme 
like  the  colonel’s,  and  yet  I keep  on  lying 
to  the  dear  old  fellow  day  after  day,  hop- 
ing that  something jwill  turn  up  by  which 
I can  help  him  out.” 

“ Then  tell  him  so.” 

Fitz  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
looked  me  straight  in  the  face,  and  said : — 
“I  cannot.  It  would  break  his  heart.” 


CHAPTER  III 

An  Old  Family  Servant 

The  coloners  front  yard,  while  as  quaint 
and  old-fashioned  as  his  house,  was  not  — 
if  I may  be  allowed  — quite  so  well  bred. 

This  came  partly  from  the  outdoor  life 
it  had  always  led  and  from  its  close  asso- 
ciation with  other  yards  that  had  lost  ail 
semblance  of  respectability,  and  partly 
from  the  fact  that  it  had  never  felt  the 
refining  influences  of  the  friends  of  the 
house ; for  nobody  ever  lingered  in  the 
front  yard  who  by  any  possibility  could 
get  into  the  front  door  — nobody,  except 
perhaps  now  and  then  a stray  tramp,  who 
felt  at  home  at  once  and  went  to  sleep  on 
the  steps. 

That  all  this  told  upon  its  character  and 
appearance  was  shown  in  the  remnants  of 
whitewash  on  the  high  wall,  scaling  off  in 
discolored  patches  ; in  the  stagger  of  the 
tall  fence  opposite,  drooping  like  a drunk- 
ard between  two  policemen  of  posts ; and 


jo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 

in  the  unkempt,  bulging  rear  of  the  third 
wall,  — the  front  house,  — stuffed  with 
rags  and  tied  up  with  clothes-lines. 

If  in  the  purity  of  its  youth  it  had  ever 
seen  better  days  as  a garden  — but  then 
no  possible  stretch  of  imagination,  however 
brilliant,  could  ever  convert  this  miserable 
quadrangle  into  a garden. 

It  contained,  of  course,  as  all  such  yards 
do,  one  lone  plant,  — this  time  a honey- 
suckle, — which  had  clambered  over  the 
front  door  and  there  rested  as  if  content  to 
stay  ; but  which  later  on,  frightened  at  the 
surroundings,  had  with  one  great  spring 
cleared  the  slippery  wall  between,  reached 
the  rain-spout  above,  and  by  its  helping 
arm  had  thus  escaped  to  the  roof  and  the 
sunlight. 

It  is  also  true  that  high  up  on  this  same 
wall  there  still  clung  the  remains  of  a criss- 
cross wooden  trellis  supporting  the  shiver- 
ing branches  of  an  old  vine,  which  had 
spent  its  whole  life  trying  to  grow  high 
enough  to  look  over  the  tall  fence  into  the 
yard  beyond ; but  this  was  so  long  ago 
that  not  even  the  landlord  remembered  the 
color  of  its  blossoms. 

Then  there  was  an  old-fashioned  hy- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  5/ 


drant,  with  a half-spiral  crank  of  a handle 
on  its  top  and  the  curved  end  of  a lead 
pipe  always  aleak  thrust  through  its  rotten 
side,  with  its  little  statues  of  ice  all  winter 
and  its  spattering  slop  all  summer. 

Besides  all  this  there  were  some  broken 
flower-pots  in  a heap  in  one  corner,  — sui- 
cides from  the  window-sills  above,  — and 
some  sagging  clothes-lines,  and  a battered 
watering-pot,  and  a box  or  two  that  might 
once  have  held  flowers ; and  yet  with  all 
this  circumstantial  evidence  against  me  I 
cannot  conscientiously  believe  that  this 
forlorn  courtyard  ever  could  have  risen  to 
the  dignity  of  a garden. 

But  of  course  nothing  of  all  this  can  be 
seen  at  night.  At  night  one  sees  only  the 
tall  clock  tower  of  Jefferson  Market  with 
its  one  blazing  eye  glaring  high  up  over 
the  fence,  the  little  lantern  hung  in  the 
tunnel,  and  the  glow  through  the  curtains 
shading  the  old-fashioned  windows  of  the 
house  itself,  telling  of  warmth  and  comfort 
within. 

To-night  when  I pushed  open  the  swing- 
ing door — the  door  of  the  tunnel  entering 
from  the  street  — the  lantern  was  gone, 
and  in  its  stead  there  was  only  the  glim- 


52  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


mer  of  a mysterious  light  moving  about  the 
yard,  — a light  that  fell  now  on  the  bare 
wall,  now  on  the  front  steps,  making 
threads  of  gold  of  the  twisted  iron  railings, 
then  on  the  posts  of  the  leaning  fence, 
against  which  hung  three  feathery  objects, 

• — grotesque  and  curious  in  the  changing 
shadows,  — and  again  on  some  barrels  and 
boxes  surrounded  by  loose  straw. 

Following  this  light,  in  fact,  guiding  it, 
was  a noiseless,  crouching  figure  peering 
under  the  open  steps,  groping  around,  the 
front  door,  creeping  beneath  the  windows ; 
moving  uneasily  with  a burglar-like  tread. 

I grasped  my  umbrella,  advanced  to  the 
edge  of  the  tunnel,  and  called  out : — 
“Who ’s  that?” 

The  figure  stopped,  straightened  up,  held 
a lantern  high  over  its  head,  and  peered 
into  the  darkness. 

There  was  no  mistaking  that  face. 

“ Oh,  that ’s  you,  Chad,  is  it  ? What 
the  devil  are  you  doing  ? ” 

“ Lookin'  for  one  ob  dese  yer  tar’ pins 
Miss  Nancy  sent  de  colonel.  Dey  was 
seben  ob  'em  in  dis  box,  an'  now  dey  ain’t 
but  six.  Hole  dis  light,  Major,  an’  lemme 
fumble  round  dis  rain-spout.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  53 


Chad  handed  me  the  lantern,  fell  on  his 
knees,  and  began  crawling  around  the 


small  yard  like  an  old  dog  hunting  for  a 
possum,  feeling  in  among  the  roots  of  the 


54 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


honeysuckle,  between  the  barrels  that  had 
brought  the  colonel’s  china  from  Carter 
Hall,  under  the  steps,  way  back  where 
Chad  kept  his  wood  ashes  — but  no  “ brer 
tar’pin.” 

“ Well,  if  dat  don’t  beat  de  lan’ ! Dey 
was  two  ba’els  — one  had  dat  wild  turkey 
an’  de  pair  o’  geese  you  see  hangin’  on  de 
fence  dar,  an’  de  udder  ba’el  I jest  ca’aed 
down  de  cellar  full  er  oishters.  De  tar’pins 
was  in  dis  box  — seben  ob  ’em.  Spec’  dat 
rapscallion  crawled  ober  de  fence  ? ” And 
Chad  picked  up  the  basket  with  the  re- 
maining half  dozen,  and  descended  the 
basement  steps  on  his  way  through  the 
kitchen  to  the  front  door  above.  Before 
he  reached  the  bottom  step  I heard  him 
break  out  with  : — 

“ Oh,  yer  you  is,  you  black  debbil ! 
Try  in’  to  git  in  de  door,  is  ye  ? De  pot  is 
whar  you  ’ll  git ! ” 

At  the  foot  of  the  short  steps,  flat  on  his 
back,  head  and  legs  wriggling  like  an  over- 
turned roach,  lay  the  missing  terrapin.  It 
had  crawled  to  the  edge  of  the  opening  and 
had  fallen  down  in  the  darkness. 

Chad  picked  him  up  and  kept  on  grum- 
bling, shaking  his  finger  at  the  motionless 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  55 


terrapin,  whose  head  and  legs  were  now 
tight  drawn  between  its  shells. 

“Gre't  mine  to  squash  ye  ! Wearin'  out 
my  old  knees  lookin' for  ye.  Nebber  mine, 
I 'm  gwine  to  bile  ye  fust  an’  de  longest  — 
hear  dat  ? — de  longest!”  Then  looking 
up  at  me,  “ I got  him,  Major  — try  dat  do'. 
Spec’  it 's  open.  Colonel  ain't  yer  yit. 
Reckon  some  ob  dem  moonshiners  is 
keepin'  him  down  town.  'Fo'  I forgit  it, 
dar 's  a letter  for  ye  hangin'  to  de  mantel- 
piece.'' 

The  door  and  the  letter  were  both 
open,  the  latter  being  half  a sheet  of  pa- 
per impaled  by  a pin,  which  alone  saved  it 
from  the  roaring  fire  that  Chad  had  just 
replenished. 

I held  it  to  the  light  and  learned,  to  my 
disappointment,  that  business  of  enormous 
importance  to  the  C.  & W.  A.  L.  R.  R. 
might  preclude  the  possibility  of  the  colo- 
nel’s leaving  his  office  until  late.  If  such 
a calamity  overtook  him,  would  I forgive 
him  and  take  possession  of  his  house  and 
cellar  and  make  myself  as  comfortable  as  I 
could  with  my  best  friend  away  ? This 
postscript  followed : — 

u Open  the  new  Madeira  ; Chad  has  the 
key.” 


5*  Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


Chad  wreaked  his  vengeance  upon  the 
absconding  terrapin  by  plunging  him,  with 
all  his  sins  upon  him,  headlong  into  the 
boiling  pot,  and  half  an  hour  later  was  en- 
gaged at  a side  table  in  removing,  with  the 
help  of  an  iron  fork,  the  upper  shell  of  the 
steaming  vagabond,  for  my  special  comfort 
and  sustenance. 

“ Tar'pin  jes  like  a crab,  Major,  on'y  got 
mo*  meat  to  'em.  But  you  got  to  know 
'em  fust  to  eat  'em.  Now  dis  yer  shell  is 
de  hot  plate,  an’  ye  do  all  yo'  eatin'  right 
inside  it,"  said  Chad,  dropping  a spoonful 
of  butter,  the  juice  of  a lemon,  and  a pinch 
of  salt  into  the  impromptu  dish. 

“ Now,  Major,  take  yo'  fork  an'  pick  out 
all  dat  black  meat  an'  dip  it  in  de  sauce^ 
an'  wid  ebery  mou’ful  take  one  o'  dem  lit- 
tle yaller  eggs.  Dat 's  de  way  we  eat  tar’- 
pin.  Dis  yer  stewin'  him  up  in  pote  wine 
is  scand'lous.  Can’t  taste  nuffin'  but  de 
wine.  But  dat 's  tar  pin.” 

I followed  Chad’s  directions  to  the  word, 
picking  the  terrapin  as  I would  a crab  and 
smothering  the  dainty  bits  in  the  hot 
sauce,  until  only  two  empty  shells  and  a 
heap  of  little  bones  were  left  to  tell  the 
tale  of  my  appetite. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  57 


“ Gwine  to  crawl  ober  de  fence,  was  ye  ? ” 
I heard  him  say  with  a chuckle  as  he  bore 
away  the  debris.  “ What  I tell  ye  ? Whar 
am  ye  now  ? ” 

“Did  Miss  Nancy  send  those  terrapin?” 
I asked,  watching  the  old  darky  drawing 
the  cork  of  the  new  Madeira  referred  to  in 
the  colonel’s  note. 

“Ob  co’se,  Major;  Miss  Nancy  gibs  de 
-colonel  eberytin’.  Did  n’t  ye  know  dat  ? 
She ’s  de  on’y  one  what ’s  got  anythin’  to 
gib,  an’  she  would  n’t  hab  dat  on’y  frough 
de  war  her  money  was  in  de  bank  in  Bal 
timo’.  I know,  ’cause  I went  dar  once  to 
g*t  some  for  her.  De  Yankee  soldiers 
searched  me  ; but  some  possums  got  two 
holes.” 

“And  did  she  send  him  the  Madeira 
too?” 

“No,  sah ; Mister  Grocerman  gib  him 
dat.” 

As  he  pronounced  this  name  his  voice 
fell,  and  for  some  time  there  fter  he  kept 
silent,  brushing  the  crumbs  awe  v,  replacing 
a plate  or  two,  or  filling  my  wine-glass,  un- 
til at  last  he  took  his  place  behind  my  chair 
as  was  his  custom  with  his  master.  It  was 
easy  to  see  that  Chad  had  something  on 
his  mind. 


58  Colonel  Carter  of  cartersvilie 


Every  now  and  then  a sigh  escaped  him, 
which  he  tried  to  conceal  by  some  irrele- 
vant remark,  as  if  his  sorrow  were  his  own 
and  not  to  be  shared  with  a stranger.  Fi- 
nally he  gave  an  uneasy  glance  around^ 
and,  looking  into  my  face  with  an  expres- 
sion of  positive  pain,  said  : — 

“ Don't  tell  de  colonel  I axed,  but  when 
is  dis  yer  railroad  gwineter  fotch  some 
money  in  ? ” 

“ Why  ? ” said  I,  wondering  what  extrav- 
agance the  old  man  had  fallen  into. 

“Nuffin,  sah  ; but  if  it  don’t  putty  quick 
dar ’s  gwineter  be  trouble.  Dese  yer  gem- 
men  on  de  av’nue  is  gittin’  ugly.  When  I 
got  dar  Madary  de  udder  day  de  tall  one 
warn’t  gwineter  gib  it  to  me,  pass-book  or 
no  pass-book.  On’y  de  young  one  say 
he’d  seen  de  colonel,  an’  he  was  a gem- 
men  an’  all  right,  I would  n’t  ’a’  got  it  at 
all.  De  tall  gemmen  was  cornin’  right 
around  hisself  — what  he  wanted  to  see, 
he  said,  was  de  color  ob  de  colonel’s 
money.  Been  me’  den  two  months,  an* 
not  a cent. 

“ Co’se  I tole  same  as  I been  tellin’  him, 
dat  de  colonel’s  folks  is  quality  folks  ; but 
he  say  dat  don’t  pay  de  bills.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  59 

“ Did  you  tell  the  colonel  ? ” 

“ No,  sah ; ain't  no  use  tollin'  de  colo- 
nel; on'y  worry  him.  He's  got  de  pass- 
book, but  I ain't  yerd  him  say  nuffin'  yit 
'bout  payin'  him.  I been  spectin'  Miss 
Nancy  up  here,  an’  de  colonel  says  she 's 
cornin'  putty  soon.  She’ll  fix  'em;  but 
dey  ain't  no  time  to  waste." 

While  he  spoke  there  came  a loud  knock 
at  the  door,  and  Chad  returned  trembling 
with  fear,  his  face  the  very  picture  of  de- 
spair. 

“Dat's  de  tall  man  hisself,  sah,  an*  his 
dander’s  up.  I knowed  dese  Yankees  in 
de  war,  any  I don't  like  'em  when  dey 's  ris\ 
When  I tole  him  de  colonel  ain't  home  he 
look  at  me  pizen-like,  same  as  I was  a-lyin' ; 
an'  den  he  stop  an'  listen  an'  say  he  come 
back  to-night.  Trouble  cornin'  ; old  coon 
smells  de  dog.  Wish  we  was  home  an'  out 
ob  dis ! " 

I tried  to  divert  his  attention  into  other 
channels  and  to  calm  his  fears,  assuring 
him  that  the  colonel  would  come  out  all 
right ; that  these  enterprises  were  slow, 
etc.  ; but  the  old  man  only  shook  his  head. 

“You  know,  Major,  same  as  me,  dat  de 
colonel  ain’t  nuffin’  but  a chile,  an’  about 


6o  Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


his  bills  he  ’s  wuss.  But  I ’m  yer,  an'  I *m 
’sponsible.  * Chad/  he  says,  ‘ go  out  an 
git  six  mo’  bottles  of  dat  old  Madary  ; 9 an* 
* Chad,  don’t  forgit  de  sweet  ile ; ’ an* 
‘ Chad,  is  we  got  claret  enough  to  last  ober 
Sunday  ? ’ — an’  not  a cent  in  de  house.  I 
ain’t  slep’  none  for  two  nights,  worritin* 
ober  dis  business,  an’  I ’m  mos’  crazy.” 

I laid  down  my  knife  and  fork  and  looked 
up.  The  old  man’s  lip  was  quivering,  and 
something  very  like  a tear  stood  in  each 
eye. 

“ I can’t  hab  nuffin’  happen  to  de  fain- 
bly,  Major.  You  know  our  folks  is  quality, 
an’  always  was,  an’  I dassent  look  my  mis- 
tress in  de  face  if  anythin’  teches  Marsa 
George.”  Then  bending  down  he  said  in 
a hoarse  whisper  : “ See  dat  old  clock  out 
dar  wid  his  eye  wide  open  ? Know  what 
’s  down  below  dat  in  de  cellar  ? De  jail ! ** 
And  two  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks. 

It  was  some  time  before  I could  quiet 
the  old  man’s  anxieties  and  coax  him  back 
into  his  usual  good  humor,  and  then  only 
when  I began  to  ask  him  of  the  old  plan- 
tation days. 

Then  he  fell  to  talking  about  the  colo- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  6t 


nel’s  father,  Gen- 
eral John  Carter, 
and  the  high  days 
at  Carter  Hall 
when  Miss  Nan- 
cy was  a young 
lady  and  the  colo- 
nel a boy  home 
from  the  univer- 
sity. 

“ Dem  was  high 
times.  We  ain’t 
neber  seed  no 
time  like  d a t 
since  de  war.  Git 
up  in  de  mawnin’ 
an’  look  out  ober 
de  lawn,  an’  yer 
come  fo’teen  or  fifteen  couples  ob  de  fust- 
est  quality  folks,  all  on  horseback  ridin’  in 
de  gate.  Den  such  a scufflin’  round  ! Old 
marsa  an’  missis  out  on  de  po’ch,  an’  de  lit- 
tle pickaninnies  runnin’  from  de  quarters, 
an’  all  hands  helpin’  ’em  off  de  horses,  an’ 
dey  all  smokin’  hot  wid  de  gallop  up  de 
lane. 

“ An’  den  sich  a breakfast  an’  sich  dan- 
cin’ an’  co’tin’ ; ladies  all  out  on  de  lawn  in 


62  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


der  white  dresses,  an’  de  gemmen  in  fair- 
top  boots,  an’  Mammy  Jane  runriin’  round 
same  as  a chicken  wid  its  head  off,  — an’ 
der  heads  was  off  befo’  dey  knowed  it,  an’ 
dey  a-br’ilin’  on  de  gridiron. 

“ Dat  would  go  on  a week  or  mo’,  an’  den 
up  dey  ’ll  all  git  an’  away  dey ’d  go  to  de 
nex’  plantation,  an’  take  Miss  Nancy  along 
wid  ’em  on  her  little  sorrel  mare,  an’  I on 
Marsa  John’s  black  horse,  to  take  care  bofe 
of  ’em.  Dem  was  times  ! 

“My  old  marsa,” — and  his  eyes  glis- 
tened, — “ my  old  Marsa  John  was  a gem- 
man,  sah,  like  dey  don’t  see  nowadays.  Tall, 
sah,  an’  straight  as  a cornstalk  ; hair  white 
an’  silky  as  de  tassel ; an’  a voice  like  de 
birds  was  singin’,  it  was  dat  sweet. 

“ * Chad,’  he  use’  ter  say,  — you  know  I 
was  young  den,  an’  I was  his  body  servant, 

— ‘ Chad,  come  yer  till  I bre’k  yo’  head ; ’ 
an’  den  when  I come  he ’d  laugh  fit  to  kill 
hisself.  Dat ’s  when  you  do  right.  But 
when  you  was  a low-down  nigger  an’  got 
de  debbil  in  yer,  an’  ole  marsa  hear  it  an’ 
send  de  oberseer  to  de  quarters  for  you  to 
come  to  de  little  room  in  de  big  house  whar 
de  walls  was  all  books  an’  whar  his  desk 
was,  't  wa’n’t  no  birds  about  his  voice  den, 

— mo’  like  de  thunder.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  6) 


“ Did  he  whip  his  negroes  ? ” 

“ No,  sah  ; don’t  reckelmember  a single 
lick  laid  on  airy  nigger  dat  de  marsa  knowed 
of ; but  when  dey  got  so  bad  — an’  some 
niggers  is  dat  way  — den  dey  was  sold  to 
de  swamp  Ian’s.  He  would  n’t  hab  ’em 
round  ’ruptin’  his  niggers,  he  use’  ter  say. 

“ Hab  coffee,  sah  ? Won’t  take  I a min- 
ute to  bile  it.  Colonel  ain’t  been  drinkin' 
none  lately,  an’  so  I don’t  make  none.” 

I nodded  my  head,  and  Chad  closed  the 
door  softly,  taking  with  him  a small  cup 
and  saucer,  and  returning  in  a few  minutes 
followed  by  that  most  delicious  of  all  aro- 
mas, the  savory  steam  of  boiling  coffee. 

“ My  Marsa  John,”  he  continued,  filling 
the  cup  with  the  smoking  beverage,  “ never 
drank  nuffin’  but  tea,  eben  at  de  big  din- 
ners when  all  de  gemmen  had  coffee  in  de 
little  cups  — dat ’s  one  ob  ’em  you ’s  drink- 
in’ out  ob  now ; dey  ain’t  mo’  dan  fo’  on 
’em  left.  Old  marsa  would  have  his  pot 
ob  tea : Henny  use’  ter  make  it  for  him ; 
makes  it  now  for  Miss  Nancy. 

“ Henny  was  a young  gal  den,  long  ’fo’ 
we  was  married.  Henny  b’longed  to  Colo- 
nel Lloyd  Barbour,  on  de  next  plantation 
to  ourn. 


64  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“Mo’  coffee,  Major?”  I handed  Chad 
the  empty  cup.  He  refilled  it,  and  went 
straight  on  without  drawing  breath. 

“ Wust  scrape  I eber  got  into  wid  old 
Marsa  John  was  ober  Henny.  I tell  ye  she 
was  a harricane  in  dem  days.  She  come 
into  de  kitchen  one  time  where  I was  help- 
in’ git  de  dinner  ready  an’  de  cook  had  gone 
to  de  spring  house,  an’  she  says  : — 

“ * Chad,  what  ye  cookin’  dat  smells  so 
nice  ? ’ 

“ ‘ Dat ’s  a goose,’  I says,  ‘ cookin’  for 
Marsa  John’s  dinner.  We  got  quality,’ 
says  I,  pointin’  to  de  dinin’-room  do’. 

“ * Quality  ! ’ she  says.  ‘ Spec’  I know 
what  de  quality  is.  Dat ’s  for  you  an’  de 
cook.’ 

“ Wid  dat  she  grabs  a caarvin’  knife  from 
de  table,  opens  de  do’  ob  de  big  oven,  cuts 
off  a leg  ob  de  goose,  an’  dis’pears  round  de 
kitchen  corner  wid  de  leg  in  her  mouf. 

“’Fo’  I knowed  whar  I was  Marsa  John 
come  to  de  kitchen  do’  an’  says,  * Gittin’ 
late,  Chad  ; bring  in  de  dinner.’  You  see, 
Major,  dey  ain’t  no  up  an’  down  stairs  in 
de  big  house,  like  it  is  yer ; kitchen  an’ 
dinin’-room  all  on  de  same  flo’. 

“ Well,  sah,  I was  scared  to  def,  but  I 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  65 

tuk  dat  goose  an’  laid  him  wid  de  cut  side 
down  on  de  bottom  of  de  pan  ’fo’  de  cook 
got  back,  put  some  dressin’  an’  stuffin’  ober 
him,  an’  shet  de  stove  do’.  Den  I tuk  de 
sweet  potatoes  an’  de  hominy  an’  put  ’em 
on  de  table,  an’  den  I went  back  in  de 
kitchen  to  git  de  baked  ham.  I put  on  de 
ham  an’  some  mo’  dishes,  an’  marsa  says, 
lookin’  up : — 

“ ‘ I t’ought  dere  was  a roast  goose, 
Chad  ? ’ 

“ ‘ I ain’t  yerd  nothin’  ’bout  no  goose,’  I 
says.  * I ’ll  ask  de  cook.’ 

“ Next  minute  I yerd  old  marsa  a-holler- 
in’ : — 

“ ‘ Mammy  Jane,  ain’t  wre  got  a goose  ?’ 

“ ‘ Lord-a-massy ! yes,  marsa.  Chad,  you 
wu’thless  nigger,  ain’t  you  tuk  dat  goose 
out  yit  ? ’ 

“ ‘ Is  we  got  a goose  ? ’ said  I. 

“ ‘ Is  we  got  a goose  ? Did  n’t  you  help 
pick  it  ? ’ 

“ I see  whar  my  hair  was  short,  an’  I 
snatched  up  a hot  dish  from  de  hearth, 
opened  de  oven  do’,  an’  slide  de  goose  in 
jes  as  he  was,  an’  lay  him  down  befo’  Marsa 
John. 

“‘Now  see  what  de  ladies’ll  have  for 


66  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


dinner,’  says  old  marsa,  pickin’  up  his  caar- 
vin’  knife. 

“ * What  ’ll  you  take  for  dinner,  miss  ? ’ 
says  I.  ‘ Baked  ham  ? ’ 

“ ‘ No,’  she  says,  lookin’  up  to  whar 
Marsa  John  sat ; ‘I  think  I ’ll  take  a leg 
ob  dat  goose’  — jes  so. 

“ Well,  marsa  cut  off  de  leg  an’  put  a lit- 
tle stuffin’  an’  gravy  on  wid  a spoon,  an’ 
says  to  me,  ‘Chad,  see  what  dat  gemman 
*11  have.’ 

“ * What  ’ll  you  take  for  dinner,  sah  ? ’ 
says  I.  ‘ Nice  breast  o’  goose,  or  slice  o’ 
ham?’ 

“ ‘ No ; I think  I ’ll  take  a leg  of  dat 
goose,’  he  says. 

“ I did  n’t  say  nuffin’,  but  I knowed  bery 
well  he  wa’n’t  a-gwine  to  git  it. 

“But,  Major,  you  oughter  seen  ole  marsa 
lookin’  for  der  udder  leg  ob  dat  goose ! He 
rolled  him  ober  on  de  dish,  dis  way  an’  dat 
way,  an’  den  he  jabbed  dat  ole  bone-han- 
dled caarvin’  fork  in  him  an’  hel’  him  up 
ober  de  dish  an’  looked  under  him  an’  on 
top  ob  him,  an’  den  he  says,  kinder  sad 
like : — 

‘ Chad,  whar  is  de  udder  leg  ob  dat 
goose  ? ’ 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  67 


“ ‘ It  did  n’t  hab  none,’  says  I. 

“‘You  mean  ter  say,  Chad,  dat  de 
gooses  on  my  plantation  on’y  got  one 
leg?’ 

“ * Some  ob  ’em  has  an’  some  ob  ’em 
ain’t.  You  see,  marsa,  we  got  two  kinds 
in  de  pond,  an’  we  was  a little  boddered  to- 
day, so  Mammy  Jane  cooked  dis  one  ’cause 
I cotched  it  fust.’ 

“ * Well,’  said  he,  lookin’  like  he  look 
when  he  send  for  you  in  de  little  room, 
* I ’ll  settle  wid  ye  after  dinner.’ 

“ Well,  dar  I was  shiverin’  an’  shakin’  in 
my  shoes,  an’  droppin’  gravy  an’  spillin’  de 
wine  on  de  table-cloth,  I was  dat  shuck  up ; 
an’  when  de  dinner  was  ober  he  calls  all  de 
ladies  an’  gemmen,  an’  says,  ‘Now  come 
down  to  de  duck  pond,  I ’m  gwineter  show 
dis  nigger  dat  all  de  gooses  on  my  planta- 
tion got  mo’  den  one  leg.’ 

“I  followed  ’long,  trapesin’  after  de 
whole  kit  an’  b’ilin’,  an’  when  we  got  to  de 
pond  ” — here  Chad  nearly  went  into  a 
convulsion  with  suppressed  laughter  — » 
“dar  was  de  gooses  sittin’  on  a log  in  de 
middle  of  dat  ole  green  goose-pond  wid 
one  leg  stuck  down  — so  — an’  de  udder 
tucked  under  de  wing.”. 


68  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


Chad  was  now  on  one  leg,  balancing 
himself  by  my  chair,  the  tears  running 
down  his  cheeks. 

“ * Dar,  marsa,’  says  I,  * don’t  ye  see  ? 
Look  at  dat  ole  gray  goose ! Dat ’s  de 
berry  match  ob  de  one  we  had  to-day.’ 

“ Den  de  ladies  all  hollered  an’  de  gem- 
men  laughed  so  loud  dey  yerd  ’em  at  de 
big  house. 

“ r Stop,  you  black  scoun’rel ! ’ Marsa 
John  says,  his  face  gittin’  white  an’  he 
a-jerkin’  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket. 
* Shoo ! ’ 

“Major,  I hope  to  have  my  brains  kicked 
out  by  a lame  grasshopper  if  ebery  one  ob 
dem  gooses  did  n’t  put  down  de  udder 
leg! 

“‘Now,  you  lyin’  nigger,’  he  says, raisin’ 
his  cane  ober  my  head,  ‘ I ’ll  show  you  ’ ■ — 

“‘Stop,  Marsa  John!’  I hollered;  ‘’t 
ain’t  fair,  ’t  ain’t  fair.' 

“ ‘ Why  ain’t  it  fair  ? ’ says  he. 

“ ‘ ’Cause,’  says  I,  ‘ you  did  n’t  say 
“ Shoo ! ” to  de  goose  what  was  on  de 
table.’  ” 1 

1 This  story,  and  the  story  of  the  “ Postmaster  v in  a 
preceding  chapter,  I have  told  for  so  many  years  and  to 
so  many  people,  and  with  such  varied  amplifications,  that 
I have  long  since  persuaded  m>rself  that  they  are  crea- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  6g 


Chad  laughed  until  he  choked. 

“ And  did  he  thrash  you  ? ” 

“Marsa  John?  No,  sah.  He  laughed 
loud  as  anybody  ; an’  den  dat  night  he  says 
to  me  as  I was  puttin’  some  wood  on  de 
fire : — 

“ ‘ Chad,  where  did  dat  leg  go  ? 1 An’ 
so  I ups  an’  tells  him  all  about  Henny,  an1 
how  I was  lyin’  ’cause  I was  ’feared  de  gal 
would  git  hurt,  an’  how  she  was  on’y  a-fool- 
in’,  thinkin’  it  was  my  goose  ; an’  den  de 
ole  marsa  look  in  de  fire  for  a long  time, 
an’  den  he  says  : — 

“‘Dat ’s  Colonel  Barbour’s  Henny,  ain’t 
it,  Chad?’ 

“ ‘Yes,’  marsa,  says  I. 

“Well,  de  next  mawnin’  he  had  his  black 
horse  saddled,  an’  I held  the  stirrup  for 
him  to  git  on,  an’  he  rode  ober  to  de  Bar- 
bour plantation,  an’  did  n’t  come  back  till 
plumb  black  night.  When  he  come  up  I 
held  de  lantern  so  I could  see  his  face,  for 
I wa’n’t  easy  in  my  mine  all  day.  But 
it  was  all  bright  an’  shinin’  same  as  a ’ 
angel’s. 

tions  of  my  own.  I surmise,  however,  that  the  basis  of 
the  “ Postmaster  ” can  be  found  in  the  corner  of  some 
forgotten  newspaper,  and  I know  that  the  “ One-Legged 
Goose  ” is  as  old  as  the  “ Decameron.’* 


70  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersvilie 


“ ‘ Chad,’  he  says,  handin’  me  de  reins, 
‘I  bought  yo’  Henny  dis  arternoon  from 
Colonel  Barbour,  an’  she ’s  cornin’  ober  to- 
morrow, an’  you  can  bofe  git  married  next 
Sunday.’  ” 

A cheerful  voice  at  the  yard  door,  and 
the  next  moment  the  colonel  was  stamping 
his  feet  on  the  hall  mat,  his  first  word  to 
Chad  an  inquiry  after  my  comfort,  and  his 
second  an  apology  to  me  for  what  he  called 
his  brutal  want  of  hospitality. 

“ But  I could  n’t  help  it,  Major.  I had 
some  letters,  suh,  that  could  not  be  post- 
poned. Has  Chad  taken  good  care  of 
you  ? No  dinner,  Chad ; I dined  down 
town.-  How  is  the  Madeira,  Major  ? ” 

I expressed  my  entire  approbation  of  the 
wine,  and  was  about  to  fill  the  colonel’s 
glass  when  Chad  leaned  over  with  the 
same  anxious  look  in  his  face. 

“ De  grocerman  was  here,  Colonel,  an* 
lef’  word  dat  he  was  cornin’  agin  later.” 
“You  don’t  say  so,  Chad,  and  I was  out : 
most  unfortunate  occurrence ! When  he 
calls  again  show  him  in  at  once.  It  will 
give  me  great  pleasure  to  see  him.” 

Then  turning  to  me,  his  mind  on  the 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  ft 


passbook  and  its  empty  pages,  — “ I ’ll  lay 
a wager,  Major,  that  man’s  father  was  a 
gentleman.  The  fact  is,  I have  not  treated 
him  with  proper  respect.  He  has  shown 
me  every  courtesy  since  I have  been  here, 
and  I am  ashamed  to  say  that  I have  not 
once  entered  his  doors.  His  calling  twice 
in  one  evening  touches  me  deeply.  I did 
not  expect  to  find  yo’  tradespeople  so  po- 
lite.” 

Chad’s  face  was  a study  while  his  master 
spoke,  but  he  was  too  well  trained,  and  still 
too  anxious  over  the  outcome  of  the  ex- 
pected interview,  to  do  more  than  bow  ob- 
sequiously to  the  colonel,  — his  invariable 
custom  when  receiving  an  order,  — and  to 
close  the  door  behind  him. 

“ That  old  servant,”  continued  the  colo- 
nel, watching  Chad  leave  the  room,  and 
drawing  his  chair  nearer  the  fire,  “has 
been  in  my  fam’ly  ever  since  he  was  bawn. 
But  for  him  and  his  old  wife,  Mammy 
Henny,  I would  be  homeless  to-night.” 
And  then  the  colonel,  with  that  soft  ca- 
dence in  his  voice  which  I always  noticed 
when  he  spoke  of  something  that  touched 
his  heart,  told  me  with  evident  feeling 
how,  in  every  crisis  of  fire,  pillage,  and 


72  Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


raid,  these  two  faithful  souls  had  kept  un- 
ceasing watch  about  the  old  house  ; refast- 
ening the  wrenched  doors,  replacing  the 
shattered,  shutters,  or  extinguishing  the  em- 
bers of  abandoned  bivouac  fires.  Indeed, 
for  months  at  a time  they  were  its  only  oc- 
cupants, outside  of  strolling  marauders  and 
bands  of  foragers,  and  but  for  their  untir- 
ing devotion  its  tall  chimneys  would  long 
since  have  stood  like  tombstones  over  the 
grave  of  its  ashes.  Then  he  added,  with  a 
break  in  his  voice  that  told  how  deeply  he 
felt  it:  — 

“Do  you  know,  Major,  that  when  I 
was  a prisoner  at  City  Point  that  darky 
tramped  a hundred  miles  through  the  coast 
swamps  to  reach  me,  crossed  both  lines 
twice,  hung  around  for  three  months  for 
his  chance,  and  has  carried  in  his  leg  ever 
since  the  ball  intended  for  me  the  night  I 
escaped  in  his  clothes,  and  he  was  shot  in 
mine. 

“ I tell  you,  suh,  the  color  of  a man’s  skin 
don’t  make  much  diffe’ence  sometimes. 
Chad  was  bawn  a gentleman,  and  he  ’ll 
never  get  over  it.” 

As  he  was  speaking,  the  object  of  his 
eulogy  opened  the  hall  door,  and  the  next 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter  sville  73 


instant  a tall,  red-headed  man  with  closely 
trimmed  side-whiskers,  and  wearing  a brown 
check  suit  and  a blue  necktie,  ran  the  gaunt- 
let of  Chad’s  profound  but  anxious  bow, 
and  advanced  towards  the  colonel,  hat  in 
hand. 

“ Which  is  Mr.  Carter  ?" 

The  colonel  arose  gracefully.  “ I am 
Colonel  Caarter,  suh,  and  I presume  you 
are  the  gentleman  to  whom  I am  indebted 
for  so  many  courtesies.  My  servant  tells 
me  that  you  called  earlier  in  the  evenin'. 
I regret,  suh,  that  I was  detained  so  late 
at  my  office,  and  I have  to  thank  you  for 
perseve’in’  the  second  time.  I assure  you, 
suh,  that  I esteem  it  a special  honor." 

The  tall  gentleman  with  the  auburn 
whiskers  wiped  his  face  with  a handker- 
chief, which  he  took  from  his  hat,  and 
stated  with  some  timidity  that  he  hoped 
he  did  not  intrude  at  that  late  hour.  He 
had  sent  his  pass-book,  and  — 

“ I have  looked  it  over,  suh,  repeatedly, 
with  the  greatest  pleasure.  It  is  a custom 
new  to  us  in  my  county,  but  it  meets 
with  my  hearty  approval.  Give  yo’  hat  to 
my  servant,  suh,  and  take  this  seat  by  the 
fire." 


74  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


The  proprietor  of  the  hat  after  some 
protestations  suffered  Chad  to  bear  away 
that  grateful  protection  to  his  slightly  bald 
head,  — retaining  his  handkerchief,  which 
he  finally  rolled  up  into  a little  wad  and 
kept  tightly  clenched  in  the  perspiring  palm 
of  his  left  hand,  — and  then  threw  out  the 
additional  hope  that  everything  was  satis- 
factory. 

“ Delicious,  suh ; I have  not  tasted  such 
Madeira  since  the  wah.  In  my  cellar  at 
home,  suh,  I once  had  some  old  Madeira 
of  ’28  that  was  given  to  my  father,  the  late 
General  John  Caarter,  by  old  Judge  Thorn- 
ton. You,  of  course,  know  that  wine,  suh. 
Ah ! I see  that  you  do.” 

And  then  followed  one  of  the  colonel’s 
delightful  monologues  descriptive  of  all 
the  vintages  of  that  year,  the  colonel  con- 
stantly appealing  to  the  dazed  and  de- 
lighted groceryman  to  be  set  right  in  minor 
technical  matters,  — the  grocer  under- 
standing them  as  little  as  he  did  the  Az- 
tec dialects,  — the  colonel  himself  supply- 
ing the  needed  data  and  then  thanking 
the  auburn  gentleman  for  the  information 
so  charmingly  that  for  the  moment  that 
worthy  tradesman  began  to  wonder  why  he 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  75 


had  not  long  before  risen  from  the  com- 
monplace level  of  canned  vegetables  to  the 
more  sublime  plane  of  wines  in  the  wood. 

“ Now  the  Madeira  you  sent  me  this 
morning  suh,  is  a trifle  too  fruity  for  my 
taste.  Chad,  open  a fresh  bottle.” 

The  owner  of  the  pass-book  instantly 
detected  a very  decided  fruity  flavor,  but 
thought  he  had  another  wine,  which  he 
would  send  in  the  morning,  that  might 
suit  the  colonel’s  palate  better. 

The  colonel  thanked  him,  and  then 
drifted  into  the  wider  field  of  domestic 
delicacies,  — the  preserving  of  fruits,  the 
making  of  pickles  as  practiced  on  the  plan- 
tations by  the  old  Virginia  cooks, — the 
colonel  waxing  eloquent  over  each  produc- 
tion, and  the  future  wine  merchant  becom- 
ing more  and  more  enchanted  as  the  colo- 
nel flowed  on. 

When  he  rose  to  go  the  grocer  had  a 
mental  list  of  the  things  he  would  send 
the  colonel  in  the  morning  all  arranged  in 
his  commercial  head,  and  so  great  was  his 
delight  that,  after  shaking  hands  with  me 
once  and  with  the  colonel  three  times,  he 
would  also  have  extended  that  courtesy  to 
Chad  had  not  that  perfectly  trained  servant 


76  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


checkmated  him  by  filling  his  extended 
palm  with  the  rim  of  his  own  hat. 

When  Chad  returned  from  bowing  him 


through  the  tunnel,  the  lines  in  his  face  a 
tangle  of  emotions,  the  colonel  was  stand- 
ing on  the  mat,  in  his  favorite  attitude  — 
back  to  the  fire,  coat  thrown  open,  thumbs 
in  his  armholes,  his  outstretched  fingers 
beating  woodpecker  tattoos  on  his  vest. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  77 


Somehow  the  visit  of  the  grocer  had 
lifted  him  out  of  the  cares  of  the  day. 
How,  he  could  not  tell.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  fragrance  of  the  Madeira ; perhaps  the 
respectful,  overawed  bow,  — the  bow  of 
the  tradesman  the  world  over  to  the  landed 
proprietor,  — restoring  to  him  for  one 
brief  moment  that  old  feudal  supremacy 
which  above  all  else  his  soul  loved.  Per- 
haps it  was  only  the  warmth  and  cheer 
and  comfort  of  it  all. 

Whatever  it  was,  it  buoyed  and  strength- 
ened him.  He  was  again  in  the  old  din- 
ing-hall at  home:  the  servants  moving 
noiselessly  about ; the  cut-glass  decanters 
reflected  in  the  polished  mahogany ; the 
candles  lighted;  his  old,  white  - haired  fa- 
ther, in  his  high-backed  chair,  sipping  his 
wine  from  the  slender  glass. 

Ah,  the  proud  estate  of  the  old  planta- 
tion days ! Would  they  ever  be  his  again  ? 


CHAPTER  IV 


The  Arrival  of  a True  Southern  Lady 

“ Mistress  yer,  sah ! Come  yistidd’y 
mawnin’.” 

How  Chad  beamed  all  over  when  this 
simple  statement  fell  from  his  lips  ! 

I had  not  seen  him  since  the  night  when 
he  stood  behind  my  chair  and  with  bated 
breath  whispered  his  anxieties  lest  the  sec- 
ond advent  of  “de  grocerman”  should 
bring  dire  destruction  to  the  colonel’s 
household. 

To-day  he  looked  ten  years  younger. 
His  kinky  gray  hair,  generally  knotted  into 
little  wads,  was  now  divided  by  a well-de- 
fined path  starting  from  the  great  wrinkle 
in  his  forehead  and  ending  in  a dense 
tangle  of  underbrush  that  no  comb  dared 
penetrate.  His  face  glistened  all  over. 
His  mouth  was  wide  open,  showing  a great 
cavity  in  which  each  tooth  seemed  to  dance 
with  delight.  His  jacket  was  as  white  and 
stiff  as  soap  and  starch  could  make  it,  while 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  79 


a cast-off  cravat  of  the  colonel’s  — double 
starched  to  suit  Chad’s  own  ideas  of  pro- 
priety — was  tied  in  a single  knot,  the  two 
ends  reaching  to  the  very  edge  of  each  ear. 
To  crown  all,  a red  carnation  flamed  away 
on  the  lapel  of  his  jacket,  just  above  an 
outside  pocket,  which  held  in  check  a pair 
of  white  cotton  gloves  bulging  with  im- 
portance and  eager  for  use.  Every  time 
he  bowed  he  touched  with  a sweep  both 
sides  of  the  narrow  hall. 

It  was  the  first  time  in  some  weeks  that 
I had  seen  the  interior  of  the  colonel’s 
cozy  dining-room  by  daylight.  Of  late  my 
visits  had  been  made  after  dark,  with  drawn 
curtains,  lighted  candles,  and  roaring  wood 
fires.  But  this  time  it  was  in  the  morn- 
ing, — and  a bright,  sunny,  lovely  spring 
morning  at  that,  — with  one  window  open 
in  the  L and  the  curtains  drawn  back  from 
the  other ; with  the  honeysuckle  begin- 
ning to  bud,  its  long  runners  twisting 
themselves  inquiringly  through  the  half- 
closed  shutters  as  if  anxious  to  discover 
what  all  this  bustle  inside  was  about. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  some  otner  touch 
besides  that  of  the  colonel  and  his  faithful 
man-of-all-work  had  left  its  impress  in  the 


8o  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


bachelor  apartment.  There  was  a general 
air  of  order  apparent.  The  irregular  line 
of  foot  gear  which  decorated  the  wash- 
board of  one  wall,  beginning  with  a pair  of 
worsted  slippers  and  ending  with  a wooden 
bootjack,  was  gone.  Whisk-brooms  and 
dusters  that  had  never  known  a restful 
nail  since  they  entered  the  colonel’s  ser- 
vice were  now  suspended  peacefully  on 
convenient  hooks.  Dainty  white  curtains, 
gathered  like  a child’s  frock,  flapped  lazily 
against  the  broken  green  blinds,  while  some 
sprays  of  arbutus,  plucked  by  Miss  Nancy 
on  her  way  to  the  railroad  station,  drooped 
about  a tall  glass  on  the  mantel. 

Chad  had  solved  the  mystery,  — Aunt 
Nancy  came  yesterday. 

I found  the  table  set  for  four,  its  chief 
feature  being  a tray  bearing  a heap  of  egg- 
shell cups  and  saucers  I had  not  seen  be- 
fore, and  an  old-fashioned  tea-urn  hum- 
ming a tune  all  to  itself. 

“ De  colonel ’s  out,  but  he  cornin’  back 
d’rektly,”  Chad  said  eagerly,  all  out  of 
breath  with  excitement.  Then  followed 
the  information  that  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  was 
coming  to  breakfast,  and  that  he  was  to 
tell  Miss  Nancy  the  moment  we  arrived. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  81 


He  then  reduced  the  bulge  in  his  outside 
pocket  by  thrusting  his  big  hands  into  his 
white  gloves,  gave  a sidelong  glance  at  the 
flower  in  his  buttonhole,  and  bore  my  card 
aloft  with  the  air  of  a cupbearer  serving  a 
princess. 

A soft  step  on  the  stair,  the  rustle  of 
silk,  a warning  word  outside  : “ Look  out 
for  dat  lower  step,  mistress  — dat  ’sit;” 
and  Miss  Nancy  entered  the  room. 

No,  I am  wrong.  She  became  a part  of 
it  ; as  much  so  as  the  old  andirons  and  the 
easy  chairs  and  the  old-fashioned  mantel- 
pieces, the  snowy  curtains  and  the  trailing 
vine.  More  so  when  she  gave  me  the 
slightest  dip  of  a courtesy  and  laid  her 
dainty,  wrinkled  little  hand  in  mine,  and 
said  in  the  sweetest  possible  voice  how 
glad  she  was  to  see  me  after  so  many  years, 
and  how  grateful  she  felt  for  all  my  kind- 
ness to  the  dear  colonel.  Then  she  sank 
into  a quaint  rocking-chair  that  Chad  had 
brought  down  behind  her,  rested  her  feet 
on  a low  stool  that  mysteriously  appeared 
from  under  the  table,  and  took  her  knitting 
from  her  reticule. 

She  had  changed  somewhat  since  I last 
saw  her,  but  only  as  would  an  old  bit  of 


82  colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


precious  stuff  that  grew  the  more  mellow 
and  harmonious  in  tone  as  it  grew  the 
older.  She  had  the  same  silky  gray  hair  — 
a trifle  whiter,  perhaps  ; the  same  frank,  ten- 
der mouth,  winning  wherever  she  smiled  ; 
the  same  slight,  graceful  figure  ; and  the 
same  manner  — its  very  simplicity  a reflex 
of  that  refined  and  quiet  life  she  had  al- 
ways led.  For  hers  had  been  an  isolated 
life,  buried  since  her  girlhood  in  a great 
house  far  away  from  the  broadening  influ- 
ences of  a city,  and  saddened  by  the  daily 
witness  of  a slow  decay  of  all  she  had  been 
taught  to  revere.  But  it  had  been  a life  so 
filled  with  the  largeness  of  generous  deeds 
that  its  returns  had  brought  her  the  love 
and  reverence  of  every  living  soul  she 
knew. 

While  she  sat  and  talked  to  me  of  her 
journey  I had  time  to  enjoy  again  the 
quaintness  of  her  dress,  — the  quaintness 
of  forty  years  before.  There  was  the  same 
old-fashioned,  soft  gray  silk  with  up-and- 
down  stripes  spotted  with  sprigs  of  flow- 
ers, the  lace  cap  with  its  frill  of  narrow 
pink  ribbons  and  two  wide  pink  strings 
that  fell  over  the  shoulders,  and  the  hand- 
kerchief of  India  mull  folded  across  the 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  83 


breast  and  fastened  with  an  amethyst  pin. 
Her  little  bits  of  feet  — they  were  literally 
so  — were  incased  in  white  stockings  and 
heelless  morocco  slippers  bound  with  braid. 

But  her  dress  was  never  sombre.  She 
always  seemed  to  remember,  even  in  her 
bright  ribbons  and  silks,  the  days  of  her 
girlhood,  when  half  the  young  men  in  the 
county  were  wild  about  her.  When  she 
moved  she  wafted  towards  you  a perfume 
of  sweet  lavender — the  very  smell  that  you 
remember  came  from  your  own  mother  s 
old-fashioned  bureau  drawer  when  she  let 
you  stand  on  tiptoe  to  see  her  pretty  things. 
When  you  kissed  her  — and  once  I did  — 
her  cheek  was  as  soft  as  a child's  and  fra- 
grant with  rose-water. 

But  I hear  the  colonel’s  voice  outside, 
laughing  with  Fitz. 

“ Come  in,  suh,  and  see  the  dearest 
woman  in  the  world.” 

The  next  instant  he  burst  in  dressed  in 
his  gala  combination,  — white  waistcoat 
and  cravat,  the  old  coat  thrown  wide  open 
as  if  to  welcome  the  world.,  and  a bunch  of 
red  roses  in  his  hand. 

“ Nancy,  here’s  my  dear  friend  Fitz, 
whom  I have  told  you  about,  — the  most 


84  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


extraord’nary  man  of  modern  times.  Ah, 
Major  ! you  here  ? Came  in  early,  did  you, 
so  as  to  have  aunt  Nancy  all  to  yo’self? 
Sit  down,  Fitz,  right  alongside  of  her.” 
And  he  kissed  her  hand  gallantly.  “ Is  n’t 
she  the  most  delightful  bit  of  old  porcelain 
you  ever  saw  in  all  yo’  bawn  days  ? ” 

Miss  Nancy  rose,  made  another  of  her 
graceful  courtesies,  and  begged  that  neither 
of  us  would  mind  the  colonel’s  raillery  ; 
she  never  could  keep  him  in  order.  And 
she  laughed  softly  as  she  gave  her  hand  to 
Fitz,  who  touched  it  very  much  as  if  he 
quite  believed  the  colonel’s  reference  to 
the  porcelain  to  be  true. 

“ There  you  go,  Nancy,  ’busin’  me  like 
dog,  and  here  I’ve  been  a-trampin’  the 
streets  for  a’  hour  lookin’  for  flowers  for 
you!  You  are  breakin’  my  heart,  Miss 
Caarter,  with  yo’  coldness  and  contempt. 
Another  word  and  you  shall  not  have  a sin- 
gle bud.”  And  the  colonel  gayly  tucked  a 
rose  under  her  chin  with  a loving  stroke 
of  his  hand,  and  threw  the  others  in  a heap 
on  her  lap. 

“ Breakfast  sarved,  mistress,”  said  Chad 
in  a low  voice. 

The  colonel  gave  his  arm  to  his  aunt 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  8 5 


with  the  air  of  a courtier  ; Fitz  and  I dis- 
posed ourselves  on  each  side  ; Chad,  with 
reverential  mien,  screwed  his  eyes  up  tight ; 
and  the  colonel  said  grace  with  an  increased 
fervor  in  his  voice,  no  doubt  remembering 
in  his  heart  the  blessing  of  the  last  arrival. 

Throughout  the  entire  repast  the  colonel 
was  in  his  gayest  mood,  brimming  over 
with  anecdotes  and  personal  reminiscences 
and  full  of  his  rose-colored  plans  for  the 
future. 

Many  things  had  combined  to  produce 
this  happy  frame  of  mind.  There  was  first 
the  Scheme,  which  had  languished  for 
weeks  owing  to  the  vise-like  condition  of 
the  money  market,  — another  of  Fitz’s 
mendacious  excuses,  — and  which  had  now 
been  suddenly  galvanized  into  temporary 
life  by  an  inquiry  made  by  certain  bankers 
who  were  seeking  an  outlet  for  English 
capital,  and  who  had  expressed  a desire  to 
investigate  the  “ Garden  Spot  of  Virginia.” 
Only  an  “ inquiry,”  but  to  the  colonel  the 
papers  were  already  signed.  Then  there 
was  the  arrival  of  his  distinguished  guest, 
whom  he  loved  devotedly  and  with  a cer- 
tain old-school  gallantry  and  tenderness  as 


86  Colonel  Carter  of  Cariersville 


picturesque  as  it  was  interesting.  Last  of 
all  there  was  that  important  episode  of 
the  bills.  For  Miss  Nancy,  the  night  she 
arrived,  had  collected  all  the  household  ac- 
counts, including  the  highly  esteemed  pass- 
book, — they  were  all  of  the  one  kind,  un- 
paid, — and  had  dispatched  Chad  early  in 
the  morning  to  the  several  creditors  with 
his  pocket  full  of  crisp  bank-notes. 

Chad  had  returned  from  this  liquidating 
tour,  and  the  full  meaning  of  that  trusty 
agent’s  mission  had  dawned  upon  the  colo- 
nel. He  buttoned  his  coat  tightly  over  his 
chest,  straightened  himself  up,  sought  out 
his  aunt,  and  said,  with  some  dignity  and  a 
slightly  injured  air  : * — 

“ Nancy,  yo’  interfe’ence  in  my  house- 
hold affairs  this  mornin’  was  vehy  credita- 
ble to  yo’  heart,  and  deeply  touches  me  ; 
but  if  I thought  you  regarded  it  in  any 
other,  light  except  as  a short  tempo’ary 
loan,  it  would  offend  me  keenly.  Within 
a few  days,  however,  I shall  receive  a vehy 
large  amount  of  securities  from  an  English 
syndicate  that  is  investigatin’  my  railroad. 
I shall  then  return  the  amount  to  you  with 
interest,  together  with  that  other  sum 
which  you  loaned  me  when  I left  Caarter 
Hall.” 


Colonel  Carter  cf  Cartersville  87 


The  little  lady’s  only  reply  was  to  slip 
her  hand  into  his  and  kiss  him  on  the  fore- 
head. 

And  yet  that  very  morning  he  had  turned 
his  pockets  inside  out  for  the  remains  of 
the  last  dollar  of  the  money  she  had  given 
him  when  he  left  home.  When  it  had  all 
been  raked  together,  and  its  pitiable  insuffi- 
ciency had  become  apparent,  this  dialogue 
took  place : — 

“ Chad,  did  you  find  any  money  on  the 
flo’  when  you  breshed  my  clothes  ? ” 

“ No,  Colonel.” 

“ Look  round  on  the  mantelpiece ; per- 
haps I left  some  bills  under  the  clock.” 

“ Ain’t  none  dar,  sah,” 

Then  Chad,  with  that  same  anxious  look 
suddenly  revived  in  his  face,  went  below  into 
the  kitchen,  mounted  a chair,  took  down 
an  old  broken  tea-cup  from  the  top  shelf, 
and  poured  out  into  his  wrinkled  palm  a 
handful  of  small  silver  coin  — his  entire  col- 
lection of  tips,  and  all  the  money  he  had. 
This  he  carried  to  the  colonel,  with  a lie 
in  his  mouth  that  the  recording  angel 
blotted  out  the  moment  it  fell  from  his 
lips. 

“ Here’s  some  change,  Marsa.  George,  I 


88  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


forgot  to  gib  ye ; been  left  ober  from  de 
marketin'.” 

And  the  colonel  gathered  it  all  in,  and 
went  out  and  spent  every  penny  of  it  on 
roses  for  “ dear  Nancy ! ” 

All  of  these  things,  as  I have  said,  had 
acted  like  a tonic  on  the  colonel,  bracing 
him  up  to  renewed  efforts,  and  reacting  on 
his  guests,  who  in  return  did  their  best  to 
make  the  breakfast  a merry  one. 

Fitz,  always  delightful,  was  more  bril- 
liant than  ever,  his  native  wit,  expressed 
in  a brogue  with  verbal  shadings  so  slight 
that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  give  it  in  print, 
keeping  the  table  in  a roar;  while  Miss 
Nancy,  encouraged  by  the  ease  and  free- 
dom of  everybody  about  her,  forgot  for  a 
time  her  quiet  reserve,  and  was  charming 
in  the  way  she  turned  over  the  leaves  of  her 
own  youthful  experiences. 

And  so  the  talk  went  on  until,  with  a 
smile  to  everybody,  the  little  lady  rose* 
called  Chad,  who  stood  ready  with  shawl 
and  cushion,  and,  saying  she  would  retire 
to  her  room  until  the  gentlemen  had  fin- 
ished smoking,  disappeared  through  the 
doorway. 

The  talk  had  evidently  aroused  some 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  8g 


memory  long  buried  in  the  colonel’s  mind ; 
for  when  Fitz  had  gone  the  dear  old  fellow 
picked  up  the  glass  holding  the  roses  which 
he  had  given  his  aunt  in  the  morning,  and, 
while  repeating  her  name  softly  to  himself, 
buried  his  face  in  their  fragrance.  Some- 
thing, perhaps,  in  their  perfume  stirred  that 
haunting  memory  the  deeper,  for  he  sud- 
denly raised  his  head  and  burst  out  : — 

“ Ah,  Major,  you  ought  to  have  seen  that 
woman  forty  years  ago  ! Why,  suh,  she 
was  just  a rose  herself  ! ” 

And  then  followed  in  disconnected  scraps, 
as  if  he  were  recalling  it  to  himself,  with 
long  pauses  between,  that  story  which  I had 
heard  hinted  at  before.  A story  never  told 
the  children,  and  never  even  whispered  in 
aunt  Nancy’s  presence,  — the  one  love  af- 
fair of  her  life. 

She  and  Robert  had  grown  up  together, 
— he  a tall,  brown-eyed  young  fellow  j ust 
out  of  the  university,  and  she  a fair-haired, 
joyous  girl  with  half  the  county  at  her  feet. 
Nancy  had  not  loved  him  at  first,  nor  ever 
did  until  the  day  he  had  saved  her  life  in  that 
wild  dash  across  country  when  her  horse 
took  fright,  and  he,  riding  neck  and  neck, 
had  lifted  her  clear  of  her  saddle.  After 


go  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


that  there  had  been  but  one  pair  of  eyes 
and  arms  for  her  in  the  wide  world.  All 
of  that  spring  and  summer,  as  the  colonel 
put  it,  she  was  like  a bird  pouring  out  her 
soul  in  one  continuous  song.  Then  there 
had  come  a night  in  Richmond,  — the  night 
of  the  ball, — followed  by  her  sudden  re- 
turn home,  hollow-eyed  and  white,  and  the 
mysterious  postponement  of  the  wedding 
for  a year. 

Everybody  wondered,  but  no  one  knew, 
and  only  as  the  months  went  by  did  her 
spirits  gain  a little,  and  she  begin  to  sing 
once  more. 

It  was  at  a great  party  on  a neighboring 
estate,  amid  the  swim  of  the  music  and  the 
whirl  of  soft  lace.  Suddenly  loud  voices 
and  threats,  a shower  of  cards  flung  at  a 
man’s  face,  an  uplifted  arm  caught  by  the 
host.  Then  a hall  door  thrust  open  and  a 
half-frenzied  man  with  disordered  dress 
staggering  out.  Then  the  startled  face  of 
a young  girl  all  in  white  and  a cry  no  one 
ever  forgot : — > 

“ Oh,  Robert ! Not  again  ? ” 

Her  long  ride  home  in  the  dead  of  the 
night,  Nancy  alone  in  the  coach,  her  escort 
— a distant  cousin  — on  horseback  behind. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  pi 


Then  the  pursuit.  The  steady  rise  and 
fall  of  the  hoof-beats  back  in  the  forest ; the 
reining  in  of  Robert’s  panting  horse  covered 
with  foam;  his  command  to  halt;  a flash, 
and  then  that  sweet  face  stretched  out  in 
the  road  in  the  moonlight  by  the  side  of 
the  overturned  coach,  the  cousin  bending 
over  her  with  a bullet  hole  in  his  hat,  and 
Robert,  ghastly  white  and  sobered,  with  the 
smoking  pistol  in  his  hand. 

Then  the  long,  halting  procession  home- 
ward in  the  gray  dawn. 

It  was  not  so  easy  after  this  to  keep  the 
secret  shut  away ; so  one  day,  when  the 
shock  had  passed,  — her  arms  about  her 
uncle’s  neck,  — the  whole  story  came  out. 
She  told  of  that  other  night  there  in  Rich- 
mond, with  Robert  reeling  and  half  crazed ; 
of  his  promise  of  reform,  and  the  postpone- 
ment of  the  wedding,  while  she  waited  and 
trusted  : so  sad  a story  that  the  old  uncle 
forgot  all  the  traditions  that  bound  South- 
ern families,  and  sustained  her  in  her  de- 
termination never  to  see  Robert  again. 

For  days  the  broken-hearted  lover  haunt- 
ed the  place,  while  an  out-bound  ship  waited 
in  Norfolk  harbor. 

Even  Robert’s  father,  crushed  and  hu- 


$2  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


miliated  by  it  all,  had  made  no  intercession 
for  him.  But  now,  he  begged,  would  she 
see  his  son  for  the  last  time,  only  that  he 
might  touch  her  hand  and  say  good-by  ? 

That  last  good-by  lasted  an  hour,  Chad 
walking  his  horse  all  the  while  before  the 
porch  door,  until  that  tottering  figure,  hold- 
ing to  the  railings  and  steadying  itself,  came 
down  the  steps. 

A shutter  thrown  back,  and  Nancy  at 
the  open  window  watching  him  mount. 

As  he  wheels  he  raises  his  hat.  She 
pushes  aside  the  climbing  roses. 

In  an  instant  he  has  cleared  the  garden 
beds,  and  has  reined  in  his  horse  just  be- 
low her  window-sill.  Looking  up  into  her 
face : — 

“ Nancy,  for  the  last  time,  shall  I stay  ? ” 

She  only  shakes  her  head. 

“ Then  look,  Nancy,  look ! This  is  your 
work ! ” 

A gleam  of  steel  in  a clenched  hand,  a 
burst  of  smoke,  and  before  Chad  can  reach 
him  Nancy’s  lover  lies  dead  in  the  flowers 
at  her  feet. 

It  had  not  been  an  easy  story  for  the 
colonel.  When  he  ceased  he  passed  his 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  g) 


hand  across  his  forehead  as  if  the  air  of  the 
room  stifled  him.  Then  laying  down  his 
pipe,  he  bent  once  more  over  the  slender 
vase,  his  face  in  the  roses. 

“ May  I come  in  ? ” 

In  an  instant  the  colonel's  old  manner 
returned. 

“ May  you  come  in,  Nancy  ? Why,  you 
dear  woman,  if  you  had  stayed  away  five 
minutes  longer  I should  have  gone  for  you 
myself.  What ! Another  skein  of  yarn  ? ” 

“ Yes,”  she  said,  seating  herself.  “ Hold 
out  your  hands.” 

The  loop  slipped  so  easily  over  the  colo- 
nel's arms  that  it  was  quite  evident  that 
the  role  was  not  new  to  him. 

“Befo'  I forget  it,  Nancy,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick 
was  called  suddenly  away  to  attend  to  some 
business  connected  with  my  railroad,  and 
left  his  vehy  kindest  regards  for  you,  and 
his  apologies  for  not  seein'  you  befo'  he 
left.” 

Fitz  had  said  nothing  that  resembled 
this,  so  far  as  my  memory  served  me,  but 
it  was  what  he  ought  to  have  done,  and  the 
colonel  always  corrected  such  little  slips  of 
Courtesy  by  supplying  them  himself. 


g4  Colonel  Carter  of  CartersviUe 


“ Politeness/*  he  would  sometimes  say, 
“ is  becomin*  rarer  every  day.  I tell  you, 
suh,  the  disease  of  bad  manners  is  mo* 
contagious  than  the  small-pox/* 

So  the  deception  was  quite  pardonable 
in  him. 

“ And  what  does  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  think  of 
the  success  of  your  enterprise,  George  ? ” 

The  colonel  sailed  away  as  usual  with  all 
his  balloon  topsails  set,  his  sea-room  lim- 
ited only  by  the  skein,  while  his  aunt  wound 
her  yarn  silently,  and  listened  with  a 'face 
expressive  at  once  of  deep  interest  and 
hope,  mingled  with  a certain  undefined 
doubt. 

As  the  ball  grew  in  size,  she  turned  to 
me,  and,  with  a penetration  and  practical  in- 
sight into  affairs  for  which  I had  not  given 
her  credit,  began  to  dissect  the  scheme  in 
detail.  She  had  heard,  she  said,  that  there 
was  lack  of  connecting  lines  and  conse- 
quent absence  of  freight,  as  well  as  insuf- 
ficient harbor  facilities  at  Warrentown. 

I parried  the  questions  as  well  as  I could, 
begging  off  on  the  plea  that  I was  only  a 
poor  devil  of  a painter  with  a minimum 
knowledge  of  such  matters,  and  ended  by 
referring  her  to  Fitz. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  95 


The  colonel,  much  to  my  surprise,  lis- 
tened to  every  word  without  opening  his 
lips  — a silence  encouraged  at  first  by  his 
pride  that  she  could  talk  so  well,  and  main- 
tained thereafter  because  of  certain  mis- 
givings awakened  in  his  mind  as  to  the 
ultimate  success  of  his  pet  enterprise. 

When  she  had  punctured  the  last  of  his 
little  balloons,  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoul- 
der, and,  looking  into  her  face,  said  : — 

“ Nancy,  you  really  don't  mean  that  my 
railroad  will  never  be  built  ? 99 

“ No,  George ; but  suppose  it  should 
not  earn  its  expenses  ? ” 

Her  thoughts  were  new  to  the  colonel. 
Nobody  except  a few  foolish  people  in  the 
Street,  anxious  to  sell  less  valuable  securi- 
ties, and  utterly  unable  to  grasp  the  great 
merits  of  the  Cartersville  and  Warrentown 
Air  Line  Railroad  plan,  had  ever  before 
advanced  any  such  ideas  in  his  presence. 
He  loosened  his  hands  from  the  yarn,  and 
took  a seat  by  the  window.  His  aunt’s 
misgivings  had  evidently  so  thoroughly  dis- 
turbed him  that  for  an  instant  I could  see 
traces  of  a certain  offended  dignity,  cou- 
pled with  a nervous  anxiety  lest  her  in- 
quiries had  shaken  my  own  confidence  in 
his  scheme* 


96  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


He  began  at  once  to  reassure  me.  There 
was  nothing  to  be  uneasy  about.  Look  at 
the  bonds  ! Note  the  perfect  safety  of 
the  plan  of  finance  — the  earlier  coupons 
omitted,  the  subsequent  peace  of  the  in- 
vestor ! The  peculiar  location  of  the  road, 
with  the  ancestral  estates  dotted  along  its 
line  ! The  dignity  of  the  several  stations ! 
He  could  hear  them  now  in  his  mind  called 
out  as  they  whistled  down  brakes:  “Car- 
ter Hall!  Barboursville ! Talcott!”  No; 
there  was  nothing  about  the  road  that 
should  disturb  his  aunt.  For  all  that  a 
still  more  anxious  look  came  into  his  face. 
He  began  pacing  the  floor,  buried  in  deep 
thought,  his  thumbs  hooked  behind  his 
back.  At  last  he  stopped  and  took  her 
hand. 

“ Dear  Nancy,  if  anything  should  happen 
to  you  it  would  break  my  heart.  Don’t  be 
angry,  it  is  only  the  major;  but  yo’  talk 
with  him  has  so  disturbed  me  that  I am 
determined  to  secure  you  against  personal 
loss.” 

Miss  Nancy  raised  her  eyes  wonderingly. 
She  evidently  did  not  catch  his  meaning. 

“You  have  been  good  enough,  my  dear, 
to  advance  me  certain  sums  of  money 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  97 


which  I still  owe.  I want  to  pay  these 
now.” 

“ But,  George,  you  ” — 

“My  dearest  Nancy,”  — and  he  stooped 
down,  and  kissed  her  cheek,  — “ I will  have 
my  way.  Of  co’se  you  did  n’t  mean  any- 
thing, only  I cannot  let  another  hour  pass 
with  these  accounts  unsettled.  Think, 
Nancy ; it  is  my  right.  The  delay  affects 
my  honor.” 

The  little  lady  dropped  her  knitting  on 
the  floor,  and  looked  at  me  in  a helpless 
way. 

The  colonel  opened  the  table  drawer, 
and  handed  me  pen  and  ink. 

“Now,  Major,  take  this  sheet  of  paper 
and  draw  a note  of  hand.” 

I looked  at  his  aunt  inquiringly.  She 
nodded  her  head  in  assent. 

“Yes,  if  it  pleases  George.” 

I began  with  the  usual  form,  entering 
the  words  “ I promise  to  pay,”  and  stopped 
for  instructions. 

“ Payable  when,  Colonel  ? ” I asked. 

“ As  soon  as  I get  the  money,  suh.” 

“But  you  will  do  that  anyhow,  George.” 
“Yes,  I know,  Nancy;  but  I want  to 
settle  it  in  some  safe  way.” 


98  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


Then  he  gazed  at  the  ceiling  in  deep 
thought. 

“I  have  it.  Major!”  And  the  colonel 
seized  the  pen.  The  note  read  as  fol- 
lows : — 

On  demand  I promise  to  pay  Ann  Carter 
the  sum  of  six  hundred  dollars,  value  received, 
with  interest  at  the  rate  of  six  per  cent,  from 
January  ist. 

Payable  as  soon  as  possible. 

George  Fairfax  Carter. 

I looked  to  see  what  effect  this  unex- 
pected influx  of  wealth  would  produce  on 
the  dear  lady ; but  the  trustful  smile  never 
wavered. 

She  read  to  the  very  end  the  modest 
scrap  of  paper  so  suddenly  enriched  by  the 
colonel's  signature,  repeated  in  a whisper 
to  herself  “ Payable  as  soon  as  possible,” 
folded  it  with  as  much  care  as  if  it  had 
been  a Bank  of  England  note,  then  thanked 
the  colonel  graciously,  and  tucked  it  in  her 
reticule. 


CHAPTER  V 


An  Allusion  to  a Yellow  Dog 

The  colonel’s  office,  like  many  other  of 
his  valued  possessions,  was  in  fact  the 
property  of  somebody  else. 

It  really  belonged  to  a friend  of  Fitzpat- 
rick, who  had  become  so  impressed  by  the 
Virginian’s  largeness  of  manner  and  buoy- 
ancy of  enthusiasm  that  he  had  whispered 
to  Fitz  to  bring  him  in  at  once  and  give 
him  any  desk  in  the  place ; adding  that 
“in  a sagging  market  the  colonel  would 
be  better  than  a war  boom.” 

So  the  colonel  moved  in  — not  a very 
complicated  operation  in  his  case ; his  ef- 
fects being  confined  to  an  old  leather  port- 
folio and  a bundle  of  quill  pens  tied  up  with 
a bit  of  Aunt  Nancy’s  white  yarn.  The 
following  day  he  had  nailed  his  visiting 
card  above  the  firm’s  name  in  the  corridor, 
hung  his  hat  and  coat  on  the  proprietor’s 
peg,  selected  a desk  nearest  the  light,  and 


loo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


was  as  much  at  home  in  five  minutes  as  if 
he  owned  the  whole  building. 

There  was  no  price  agreed  upon.  Once, 
when  Fitz  delicately  suggested  that  all 

such  rents  were 
generally  payable 
monthly,  the  colo- 
nel, after  some  dif- 
ficulty in  grasp- 
ing the  idea,  had 
said : — 

“ I could  not  of- 
fer it,  suh.  These 
gentlemen  have 
treated  me  with  a 
hospitality  so  generous  that  its  memory 
will  never  fade  from  my  mind.  I cannot 
bring  our  relations  down  to  the  level  of 
bargain  and  sale,  suh  ; it  would  be  vul- 
gar.” 

The  colonel  was  perfectly  sincere.  As 
for  himself  he  would  have  put  every  room 
in  his  own  Carter  Hall  at  their  service  for 
any  purpose  or  for  any  length  of  time,  and 
have  slept  in  the  woodshed  himself ; and 
he  would  as  soon  have  demanded  the  value 
of  the  bottle  of  wine  on  his  own  table  as 
ask  pay  for  such  trivial  courtesies. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  /or 


Nor  did  he  stop  at  the  rent.  The  free 
use  of  stamps,  envelopes,  paper,  messenger 
service,  and  clerks  were  to  him  only  evi- 
dences of  a lordly  sort  of  hospitality  which 
endeared  the  real  proprietor  of  the  office 
all  the  more  to  him,  because  it  recalled  the 
lavish  display  of  the  golden  days  of  Carter 
Hall. 

“ Permit  a guest  to  stamp  his  own  let- 
ters, suh  ? Never ! Our  servants  attended 
to  that.” 

Really  he  owed  his  host  nothing.  No 
office  of  its  size  in  the  Street  made  so  much 
money  for  its  customers  in  a bull  market. 
Nobody  lost  heart  in  a tumble  and  was  sold 
out  — that  is,  nobody  to  whom  the  colonel 
talked.  Once  convince  the  enthusiastic 
Virginian  that  the  scheme  was  feasible,  — 
and  how  little  eloquence  was  needed  for 
that ! — and  the  dear  old  fellow  took  hold 
with  as  much  gusto  as  if  it  had  been  his 
own. 

The  vein  in  the  copper  mine  was  always 
going  to  widen  out  into  a six-foot  lead  ; 
never  by  any  possibility  could  it  grow  any 
smaller.  The  trust  shares  were  going  up 
“ not  a point  or  two  at  a time,  gentle- 
men, but  with  the  spring  of  a panther. 


102  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


suh.”  Of  course  the  railroad  earnings 
were  a little  off  this  month,  but  wait  until 
the  spring  opened ; “ then,  suh,  you  will 
see  a revival  that  will  sweep  you  off  yo’ 
feet.” 

Whether  it  was  good  luck,  or  the  good 
heart  that  the  colonel  put  into  his  friend’s 
customers,  the  results  were  always  the 
same. . Singular  as  it  may  seem,  his  cheery 
word  just  at  the  right  time  tided  over  the 
critical  moment  many  an  uncertain  watcher 
at  the  “ticker,”  often  to  an  enlargement 
of  his  bank  account.  Nor  would  he  allow 
any  one  to  pay  him  for  any  service  of  this 
kind,  even  though  he  had  spent  days  en- 
grossed in  their  affairs. 

“Take  money,  suh,  for  helpin’  a friend 
out  of  a hole  ? My  dear  suh,  I see  you  do 
not  intend  to  be  disco’teous ; but  look  at 
me,  suh ! There ’s  my  hand ; never  refer 
to  it  again.”  And  then  he  would  offer  the 
offender  his  card  in  the  hope,  perhaps,  that 
its  ample  record  might  furnish  some  fur- 
ther slight  suggestion  as  to  who  he  really 
was. 

His  popularity,  therefore,  was  not  to  be 
wondered  at.  Everybody  regarded  him 
kindly,  total  stranger  as  he  was,  and  al- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  103 


though  few  of  them  believed  to  any  ex- 
tent in  his  “ Garden  Spot  of  Virginia/'  as 
his  pet  enterprise  soon  came  to  be  known 
around  the  Street,  everybody  wished  it  well, 
and  not  a few  would  have  started  it  with  a 
considerable  subscription  could  the  colonel 
have  managed  the  additional  thousands  re- 
quired to  set  it  on  its  financial  legs. 

Fitz  never  lost  heart  in  the  scheme,  ~ 
that  is,  never  when  the  colonel  was  about. 
As  the  weeks  rolled  by  and  one  combina- 
tion after  the  other  failed,  and  the  well- 
thumbed  bundle  of  papers  in  the  big  blue 
envelope  was  returned  with  various  com- 
ments * “ In  view  of  our  present  financial 
engagements  we  are  unable  to  undertake 
your  very  attractive  railroad  scheme/'  or 
the  more  curt  “Not  suited  to  our  line  of 
customers,"  he  would  watch  the  colonel's 
face  anxiously,  and  rack  his  brain  for  some 
additional  excuse. 

He  always  found  one.  Tight  money,  or 
news  from  Europe,  or  an  overissue  of  sim« 
ilar  bonds  ; next  week  it  would  be  better. 
And  the  colonel  always  believed  him.  Fitz 
was  his  guiding  star,  and  would  lead  Ivm  to 
some  Sc  fe  haven  yet.  This  faith  was  his 
stronghold,  and  his  only  one 


104  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


This  morning,  however,  there  was  a 
touch  of  genuine  enthusiasm  about  Fitz. 
He  rushed  into  the  office,  caught  up  the 
blue  bundle  and  the  map,  nearly  upsetting 
the  colonel,  who  was  balanced  back  in  his 
chair  with  his  long  legs  over  the  desk,  - — 
a favorite  attitude  when  down  town,  — 
rushed  out,  and  returned  in  half  an  hour 
with  a fat  body  surmounted  by  a bald  head 
fringed  about  with  gray  curls. 


rfe  was  the  advance  agent  of  that  mys- 
terious combination  known  to  the  financial 
world  as  an  “ English  syndicate/1  an  elusive 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  105 


sort  of  commercial  sea-serpent  with  its 
head  in  London  and  its  tail  around  the 
globe.  The  “ inquiry  ” which  had  so  glad- 
dened the  coloners  heart  the  morning  of 
the  breakfast  with  aunt  Nancy  had  pro- 
ceeded from  this  rotund  negotiator. 

The  colonel  had,  as  usual,  started  the 
road  at  Cartersville,  and  had  gotten  as  far 
as  the  double-span  iron  bridge  over  the 
Tench  when  the  rotund  gentleman  asked 
abruptly,  — 

“ How  far  are  you  from  a coal-field  ? ” 
The  colonel  lifted  the  point  of  his  pen, 
adjusted  his  glasses,  and  punched  a hole  in 
the  rumpled  map  within  a hairs  breadth 
of  a black  dot  labeled  “ Cartersville.,, 

“ Right  there,  suh.  Within  a stone’s 
throw  of  our  locomotives.” 

Fitz  looked  into  the  hole  with  as  much 
astonishment  as  if  it  were  the  open  mouth 
of  the  mine  itself. 

“ Hard  or  soft  ? ” said  the  stout  man. 

" Soft,  suh,  and  fairly  good  coal,  I under- 
stand, although  I have  never  used  it,  suh ; 
my  ancestors  always  burned  wood.” 

Fitz  heard  the  statement  in  undisguised 
wonder.  In  all  his  intercourse  with  the 
colonel  he  had  never  before  known  him  to 


io6  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


depart  so  much  as  a razor’s  edge  from  the 
truth. 

The  fat  man  communed  with  himself  a 
moment,  and  then  said  suddenly,  “ I ’ll  take 
the  papers  and  give  you  an  answer  in  a 
week,”  and  hurried  away. 

“ Do  you  really  mean,  Colonel,”  said  Fitz, 
determined  to  pin  him  down,  “that  there 
is  a single  pound  of  coal  in  Cartersville  ? ” 

“ Do  I mean  it,  Fitz  ? Don’t  it  crop  cut- 
in  half  a dozen  spots  right  on  our  own 
place  ? One  haalf  of  my  estate;  suh,  is  a 
coal-field.” 

“ You  never  told  me  a word  about  it.” 

“ I don’t  know  that  I did,  Fitz.  But  it 
has  never  been  of  any  use  to  me.  Besides, 
suh.  we  have  plenty  of  wood.  We  never 
burn  coal  at  Caarter  Hall.” 

Fitz  did  not  take  that  view  of  it.  He 
went  into  an  exhaustive  cross-examination 
of  the  colonel  on  the  coal  question : who 
had  tested  it,  the  character  of  the  soil, 
width  of  the  vein,  and  dip  of  the  land. 
This  information  he  carefully  recorded  in 
a small  book  which  he  took  from  his  inside 
pocket. 

Loosened  from  Fitz’s  pinioning  grasp; 
the  colonel,  entirely  oblivious  to  his  friend’s 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  loy 


sudden  interest  in  the  coal-field,  and  slight- 
ly impatient  at  the  delay,  bounded  like  a 
balloon  with  its  anchors  cut. 

“ An  answer  from  the  syndicate  within 
a week ! My  dear  Fitz,  I see  yo'  drift 
You  have  kept  the  Garden  Spots  for  the 
foreign  investors.  That  man  is  impressed, 
suh ; I saw  it  in  his  eye.” 

The  room  began  filling  up  with  the  va- 
rious customers  and  loungers  common  to 
such  offices : the  debonair  gentleman  in 
check  trousers  and  silk  hat,  with  a rose  in 
his  button-hole,  who  dusts  his  trousers 
broadside  with  his  cane  — short  of  one  hun- 
dred shares  with  thirty  per  cent,  margin  ; 
the  shabby  old  man  with  a solemn  face 
who  watches  the  ticker  a moment  and  then 
wanders  aimlessly  out,  looking  more  like 
an  underpaid  clerk  in  a law  office  than  the 
president  of  a crosstown  railroad —long  of 
one  thousand  shares  with  no  margin  at  all ; 
the  nervous  man  who  stops  the  messenger 
boys  and  devours  the  sales'  lists  before 
they  can  be  skewered  on  the  files,  — not 
a dollars  interest  either  way  ; and,  last  of 
all,  the  brokers  with  little  pads  and  nimble 
pencils. 

The  news  that  the  great  English  syndic 


io8  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


cate  was  looking  into  the  C.  & W.  A.  L. 
R.  R.  was  soon  around  the  office,  and  each 
habitui  had  a bright  word  for  the  colonel, 
congratulating  him  on  the  favorable  turn 
his  affairs  had  taken. 

All  but  old  Klutchem,  a broker  in  un- 
listed securities,  who  had  been  trying  for 
weeks  to  get  a Denver  land  scheme  before 
the  same  syndicate,  and  had  failed. 

“ Garden  Spot  bonds  ! Bosh  ! Road  be- 
gins nowhere  and  ends  nowhere.  If  any 
set  of  fools  built  it,  the  only  freight  it  would 
get,  outside  of  peanuts  and  sweet  potatoes, 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  log 


would  be  razor-back  hogs  and  niggers.  I 
would  n’t  give  a yellow  dog  for  enough  of 
those  securities  to  paper  a church.” 

The  colonel  was  on  his  feet  in  an  in- 
stant. 

“ Mr.  Klutchem,  I cannot  permit  you, 
suh,  to  use  such  language  in  my  presence 
unrebuked  ; you  ” — 

“ Now,  see  here,  old  Garden  Spot,  you 
know  ” — 

The  familiarity  angered  the  colonel  even 
more  than  the  outburst. 

“ Caarter,  suh,  — George  Fairfax  Caar- 
ter,”  said  the  colonel  with  dignity. 

“ Well,  Caarter,  then,”  mimicking  him, 
perhaps  unconsciously.  “ You  know  ” — 
The  intonation  was  the  last  straw.  The 
colonel  lost  all  control  of  himself.  No  man 
had  ever  thus  dared  before. 

“ Stop,  Mr.  Klutchem  ! What  I know, 
suh,  I decline  to  discuss  with  you.  Yo’ 
statements  are  false,  and  yo’  manner  of 
expressin’  them  quite  in  keepin’  with  the 
evident  vulga’ity  of  yo’  mind.  If  I can  as- 
certain that  you  have  ever  had  any  claim  to 
be  considered  a gentleman  you  will  hear 
from  me  ag’in.  If  not,  I shall  rate  you  as 
rankin’  with  yo’  yallar  dog ; and  if  you  ever 


no  Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


speak  to  me  ag’in  I will  strike  you,  suh, 
with  my  cane.” 

And  the  colonel,  his  eyes  flashing, 
strode  into  the  private  office  with  the  air 
of  a field  marshal,  and  shut  the  door. 

Klutchem  looked  around  the  room  and 
into  the  startled  faces  of  the  clerks  and 
bystanders,  burst  into  a loud  laugh,  and  left 
the  office.  On  reaching  the  street  he  met 
Fitz  coming  in. 

“ Better  look  after  old  Garden  Spot, 
Fitzpatrick.  I poked  holes  in  his  road, 
and  he  wanted  to  swallow  me  alive.” 


CHAPTER  VI 


Certain  Important  Letters 

When  I reached  my  lodgings  that  night 
I found  this  note,  marked  in  the  left-hand 
corner  “ Important,”  and  in  the  right-hand 
corner  “ In  haste.”  A boy  had  left  it  half 
an  hour  before. 

Be  at  my  house  at  six,  prepared  to  leave 
town  at  an  hour’s  notice. 

Carter. 

I hurried  to  Bedford  Place,  dived  through 
the  tunnel,  and  found  Fitzpatrick  with  his 
hand  on  the  knocker.  I followed  him 
through  the  narrow  hall  and  into  the  din- 
ing-room. He  had  a duplicate,  also  marked 
“ Important  ” and  “ In  haste,”  with  this 
additional  postscript : “ Bring  address  of  a 
prudent  doctor.” 

“What  does  all  this  mean,  Fitz?”  I 
asked,  spreading  my  letter  out. 

“ I give  it  up,  Major.  The  last  I saw  of 
the  colonel  was  at  two  o’clock.  He  was 


1 12  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


then  in  the  private  office  writing.  That 
old  wind-bag  Klutchem  had  been  worrying 
him,  I heard,  and  the  colonel  sat  down  on 
him  hard.  But  he  had  forgotten  all  about 
it  when  I talked  to  him,  for  he  was  as  calm 
as  a clock.  But  what  the  devil,  Major, 
does  he  want  with  a doctor  ? Chad ! ” 

“Yes,  sah ! ” 

“Was  the  colonel  sick  this  morning?” 

“No,  sah.  Eat  two  b’iled  eggs,  and  a 
dish  ob  ham  half  as  big  as  yo’  han\  He 
wa’n’t  sick,  ’cause  I yerd  him  singin’  to 
hisself  all  fru  de  tunnel  cl’ar  out  to  de 
street.” 

We  sat  down  and  looked  at  each  other. 
Could  anybody  else  be  sick  ? Perhaps 
aunt  Nancy  had  been  taken  ill  on  her  way 
home  to  Virginia,  and  the  doctor  was  for 
the  dear  lady.  But  why  a “prudent  doc- 
tor,” and  why  both  of  us  to  go? 

Fitz  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  and 
I sat  by  the  open  window,  and  looked  out 
into  the  dreary  yard.  The  hands  of  the 
clock  in  the  tall  tower  outlined  against  the 
evening  sky  were  past  the  hour,  long  past, 
and  yet  no  colonel. 

Suppose  he  had  been  suddenly  stricken 
down  himself ! Suppose  — 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  n $ 


The  slamming  of  the  outer  gate,  followed 
by  a sentry-like  tread  in  the  tunnel,  cut 
short  our  quandary,  and  the  colonel’s  tall 
figure  emerged  from  the  archway,  and 
mounted  the  steps. 

“ What  has  happened  ? ” we  both  blurted 
out,  opening  the  door  for  him.  “"Who’s 
sick  ? Where  are  we  going  ? ” 

The  colonel’s  only  reply  was  a pressure 
of  our  hands.  Then,  placing  his  hat  with 
great  deliberation  on  the  hall  table,  he  drew 
off  his  gloves,  waved  us  before  him,  and 
took  his  seat  at  the  dining-room  table. 

Fitz  and  I,  now  thoroughly  alarmed,  and 
quite  prepared  for  the  worst,  stood  on  each 
side. 

The  colonel  dropped  his  hand  into  his 
inside  pocket,  and  drew  forth  three  letters. 

“ Gentlemen,  you  see  befo’  you  a man 
on  the  verge  of  one  of  the  great  crises  of 
his  life.  You  heard,  Fitz,  of  what  occurred 
in  my  office  this  mornin’  ? You  know  how 
brutally  I was  assaulted,  and  how  entirely 
without  provocation  on  my  part  ? I am  a 
Caarter,  suh,  and  a gentleman.  No  man 
can  throw  discredit  on  an  enterprise  bearin’ 
my  name  without  bein’  answerable  to  me.” 


1 14  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


And  the  colonel  with  great  dignity  opened 
one  of  the  letters,  and  read  as  follows : — 

51  Bedford  Place. 

Tuesday . 

P.  A.  Klutchem. 

Sir, — You  took  occasion  this  morning,  in 
the  presence  of  a number  of  my  friends,  to 
make  use  of  certain  offensive  remarks  reflect- 
ing upon  a great  commercial  enterprise  to 
which  I have  lent  my  name.  This  was  accom- 
panied by  a familiarity  as  coarse  as  it  was  un- 
warranted. The  laws  of  hospitality,  which  your 
own  lack  of  good  breeding  violated,  forbade 
my  having  you  ejected  from  my  office  on  the 
spot. 

I now  demand  that  satisfaction  to  which  I 
am  entitled,  and  I herewith  inform  you  that  I 
am  ready  at  an  hour’s  notice  to  meet  you  at 
any  point  outside  the  city  most  convenient  to 
yourself. 

Immediately  upon  your  reply  my  friend  Mr. 
T.  B.  Fitzpatrick  will  wait  upon  you  and  arrange 
the  details.  I name  Major  Thos.  C.  Yancey  of 
Virginia  as  my  second  in  the  field. 

I have  the  honor  to  remain 

Your  obedient  servant, 

George  Fairfax  Carter, 

Late  Colonel  C.  S.  A . 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  115 


“ Suffering  Moses  ! ” cried  out  Fitz. 
“ You  are  not  going  to  send  that? ” 

“It  is  sent,  my  dear  Fitz.  Mailed  from 
my  office  this  afternoon.  This  is  a copy.” 
Fitz  sank  into  a chair  with  both  hands 
to  his  head. 

“ My  object  in  sendin’  for  you  both,”  the 
colonel  continued,  “was  to  be  fully  pre- 
pared should  my  antagonist  select  some 
early  hour  in  the  mornin’.  In  that  case, 
Fitz,  I shall  have  to  rely  on  you  alone,  as 
Major  Yancey  cannot  reach  here  until  the 
followin’  day.  That  was  why  a prudent 
doctor  might  be  necessary  at  once.” 

Fitz’s  only  reply  was  to  thump  his  own 
head,  as  if  the  situation  was  too  overpower- 
ing for  words. 

The  colonel,  with  the  same  deliberation, 
opened  the  second  letter.  It  was  addressed 
to  Judge  Kerfoot,  informing  him  of  the  na- 
ture of  the  “ crisis,”  and  notifying  him  of 
his  (the  colonel’s)  intention  to  appoint  him 
sole  executor  of  his  estate  should  fate  pro- 
vide that  vacancy. 

The  third  was  a telegram  to  Major  Yan- 
cey summoning  him  at  once  “ to  duty  on 
the  field  in  an  affair  of  honor.” 

“ I am  aware,  Fitz,  that  some  secrecy 


iid  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


must  be  preserved  in  an  affair  of  this  kind 
Nawth  - quite  diffe'ent  from  our  own 
county,  a id  ” — 

“ Seen.  y ! Secrecy ! With  that  bellow- 
ing Klutchem  ? Don't  you  know  that  that 
idiot  will  have  it  all  over  the  Street  by  nine 
o'clock  to-morrow,  unless  he  is  ass  enough 
to  get  scared,  get  out  a warrant,  and  clap 
you  into  the  Tombs  before  breakfast  ? O 
Colonel ! How  could  you  do  a thing  like 
this  without  letting  us  know  ? ” 

The  colonel  never  changed  a muscle  in 
his  face.  He  was  courteous,  even  patient 
with  Fitz,  now  really  alarmed  over  the  con- 
sequences of  what  he  considered  a most 
stupendous  piece  of  folly.  He  could  not,  he 
said,  sit  in  judgment  on  other  gentlemen. 
If  Fitz  felt  that  way,  it  was  doubtless  due 
to  his  education.  As  for  himself,  he  must 
follow  the  traditions  of  his  ancestors. 

“ But  at  all  events,  my  friends,  my  dear 
friends,"  — and  he  extended  both  hands, 
— “ we  must  not  let  this  affair  spoil  our 
ap'tites.  Nothing  can  now  occur  until  the 
mornin’,  and  we  have  ample  time  befo'  day- 
jight  to  make  our  preparations.  Major, 
kindly  touch  the  bell.  Thank  you  ! Chad, 
serve  the  soup." 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter  Seville  liy 


So  short  a time  elapsed  between  the 
sound  of  the  bell  and  the  thrusting  in  of 
Chad's  head  that  it  was  quite  evident  the 
darky  had  been  listening  on  the  outside. 

If,  however,  that  worthy  guardian  of  the 
honor  and  dignity  of  the  Carter  family  was 
at  all  disturbed  by  what  he  had  heard,  there 
was  nothing  in  his  face  to  indicate  it.  On 
the  contrary,  every  wrinkle  was  twisted  into 
curls  and  curves  of  hilarity.  He  even  went 
so  far  during  dinner  as  to  correct  his  mas- 
ter in  so  slight  a detail  as  to  where  Captain 
Loynes  was  hit  in  the  famous  duel  between 
the  colonel's  father  and  that  distinguished 
Virginian. 

“Are  you  shore,  Chad,  it  was  in  the 
leg?" 

“Yes,  sah,  berry  sho.  You  don't  reckel- 
raember,  Colonel ; but  I had  Marsa  John's 
coat,  an'  I wrop  it  round  Cap’ in  Loynes 
when  he  was  ca’aied  to  his  ca'aige.  Yes, 
sah,  jes  above  de  knee.  Marsa  John 
picked  him  de  fust  shot." 

“I  remember  now.  Yes,  you  are  right. 
The  captain  always  walked  a little  lame." 

“But,  gentlemen,"  — still  with  great 
dignity,  but  yet  with  an  air  as  if  he  desired 
to  relieve  our  minds  from  any  anxiety  con- 


Ii8  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 
- 1 1 1 

cerning  himself,  — “ by  far  the  most  inter- 
esting affair  of  honor  of  my  time  was  the 
one  in  which  I met  Major  Howard,  a prom- 
inent member  of  the  Fairfax  County  bar. 
Some  words  in  the  heat  of  debate  led  to  a 
blow,  and  the  next  mornin'  the  handker- 
chief was  dropped  at  the  edge  of  a wood 
near  the  cote-house  just  as  the  sun  rose 
over  the  hill.  As  I fired,  the  light  blinded 
me,  and  my  ball  passed  through  his  left 
arm.  I escaped  with  a hole  in  my  sleeve.” 

“ Living  yet?”  said  Fitz,  repressing  a 
smile. 

“ Certainly,  suh,  and  one  of  the  fo’most 
lawyers  of  our  State.  Vehy  good  friend  of 
mine.  Saw  him  on’y  the  week  befo’  I left 
home.” 

When  dinner  was  served,  I could  detect 
no  falling  off  in  the  colonel's  appetite. 
With  the  exception  of  a certain  nervous 
expectance,  intensified  when  there  was  a 
rap  at  the  front  door,  followed  by  a certain 
consequent  disappointment  when  Chad  an- 
nounced the  return  of  a pair  of  shoes — • 
out  to  be  half-soled  — instead  of  the  long- 
delayed  reply  from  the  offending  broker, 
he  was  as  calm  and  collected  as  ever. 

It  was  only  when  he  took  from  his  table 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  / 19 


drawer  some  sheets  of  foolscap,  spread  the 
nib  of  a quill  pen  on  his  thumb  nail,  and 
beckoned  Fitz  to  his  side,  that  I noticed 
any  difference  even  in  his  voice. 

“ You  know,  Fitz,  that  my  hand  is  not  so 
steady  as  it  was,  and  if  I should  fall,  there 
are  some  things  that  must  be  attended  to. 
Sit  here  and  write  these  memoranda  at  my 
dictation.” 

Fitz  drew  nearer,  and  bent  his  ear  in 
attention. 

“ I,  George  Fairfax  Caarter  of  Caarter 
Hall,  Caartersville,  Virginia,  bein’  of  sound 
mind  ” — 

The  pen  scratched  away. 

“ Everything  down  but  the  sound  mind,” 
said  Fitz  ; “but  go  on.” 

“Do  hereby,”  continued  the  colonel. 

“What  ’s  all  this  for  — another  chal- 
lenge ?”  said  Fitz,  looking  up. 

“No,  Fitz,”  — the  colonel  did  not  like 
his  tone,  — “ but  a few  partin’  instructions 
which  will  answer  in  place  of  a more  for- 
mally drawn  will.” 

Fitz  scratched  on  until  the  preamble  was 
finished,  and  the  unincumbered  half  of  Car- 
ter Hall  had  been  bequeathed  to  “ my  ever 
valued  aunt  Ann  Carter,  spinster,”  and  he 


120  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


had  reached  a new  paragraph  beginning 
with,  “All  bonds,  stocks,  and  shares, 
whether  founders’,  preferred,  or  common, 
of  the  corporation  known  as  the  Carters- 
ville and  Warrentown  Air  Line  Railroad, 
particularly  the  sum  of  25,000  shares  of 
said  company  subscribed  for  by  the  un- 
dersigned, I hereby  bequeath,”  when  Fitz 
stopped  and  laid  down  his  pen. 

“ You  can’t  leave  that  stock.  Not  trans- 
ferred to  you  yet.” 

“ I know  it,  Fitz ; but  I have  pledged  my 
word  to  take  it,  and  so  far  as  I am  con- 
cerned, it  is  mine.” 

Fitz  looked  over  his  glasses  at  me,  and 
completed  the  sentence  by  which  this  also 
became  “ the  exclusive  property  of  Ann 
Carter,  spinster.”  Then  followed  a clause 
giving  his  clothes  to  Chad,  his  seal  and 
chain  to  Fitz,  and  his  fowling-piece  to  me. 

When  the  document  was  finished,  the 
colonel  signed  it  in  a bold,  round  hand, 
and  attested  it  by  a burning  puddle  of  red 
wax  into  which  he  plunged  the  old  family 
seal.  Fitz  and  I duly  witnessed  it,  and 
then  the  colonel,  with  the  air  of  a man 
whose  mind  had  been  suddenly  relieved  of 
some  great  pressure,  locked  the  important 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  I2t 


document  in  his  drawer,  and  handed  the 
key  to  Fitz. 

The  change  now  in  the  colonel’s  man 
ner  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the  expres* 
sion  of  his  face.  All  his  severe  dignity, 
all  the  excess  of  responsibility  and  apparent 
studied  calmness,  were  gone.  He  even  be- 
came buoyant  enough  to  light  a pipe. 

Presently  he  gave  a little  start  as  if  sud- 
denly remembering  something  until  that 
moment  overlooked,  then  he  lighted  a can- 
dle, and  mounted  the  stairs  to  his  bed- 
room. In  a few  minutes  he  returned,  car- 
rying in  both  hands  a mysterious-looking 
box.  This  he  placed  with  great  care  on 
the  table,  and  proceeded  to  unlock  with  a 
miniature  key  attached  to  a bunch  which 
he  invariably  carried  in  his  trousers  pocket. 

It  was  a square  box  made  of  mahogany, 
bound  at  each  corner  with  brass,  and  bear- 
ing in  the  centre  of  the  top  a lozenge- 
shaped silver  tablet  engraved  with  a Carter 
coat  of  arms,  the  letters  “ G.  F.  C.”  being 
beneath. 

The  colonel  raised  the  lid  and  uncovered 
the  weapons  that  had  defended  the  honor 
of  the  Carter  family  for  two  generations. 
They  were  the  old-fashioned  single-barrel 


122  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


kind,  with  butts  like  those  of  the  pirates 
in  a play,  and  they  lay  in  a bed  of  faded 
red  velvet  surrounded  by  ramrods,  bullet- 
moulds,  a green  pill-box  labeled  “ G.  D.  Gun 
Caps,”  .some  scraps  of  wash  leather,  to- 
gether with  a copper  powder-flask  and  a 
spoonful  of  bullets.  The  nipples  were 
protected  by  little  patches  cut  from  an  old 
kid  glove. 

The  colonel  showed  with  great  pride  a 
dent  on  one  side  of  the  barrel  where  a ball 
had  glanced,  saving  some  ancestor’s  life; 
then  he  rang  the  bell  for  Chad,  and  con- 
signed the  case  to  that  hilarious  darky  very 
much  as  the  knight  of  a castle  would  place 
his  trusty  blade  in  the  hands  of  his  chief 
armorer. 

“ Want  a tech  o’  ile  in  dese  baals,  Colo- 
nel,” said  Chad,  examining  them  critically. 
“ Got  to  keep  dere  moufs  clean  if  you  want 
dese  dogs  to  bark  right ; ” and  he  bore 
away  the  battery,  followed  by  the  colonel, 
who  went  down  into  the  kitchen  to  see  if 
the  fire  was  hot  enough  to  cast  a few  extra 
bullets. 

Fitz  and  I,  being  more  concerned  about 
devising  some  method  to  prevent  the  con- 
sequences of  the  colonel’s  rash  act  than  in 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  12 } 


increasing  the  facilities  for  bloodshed,  re- 
mained where  we  were  and  discussed  the 
possible  outcome  of  the  situation. 

We  had  about  agreed  that  should 
Klutchem  demand  protection  of  the  police, 
and  the  colonel  be  hauled  up  for  violating 


124  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


the  law  of  the  State,  I should  go  bail  and 
Fitz  employ  the  lawyer,  when  we  were 
startled  by  a sound  like  the  snap  of  a per- 
cussion-cap, followed  by  loud  talking  in  the 
front  yard. 

First  came  a voice  in  a commanding 
tone : “ Stand  where  you  are ! Drop  yo’ 
hand ! ” 

Then  Chad’s  “ Don’t  shoot  yit,  Colonel.” 

Fitz  and  I started,  for  the  front  door  on 
a run,  threw  it  open,  and  ran  against  Chad 
standing  on  the  top  step  with  his  back  to 
the  panels.  Over  his  head  he  held  the 
stub  of  a candle  flickering  in  the  night 
wind.  This  he  moved  up  and  down  in  obe- 
dience to  certain  mysterious  sounds  which 
came  rumbling  out  of  the  tunnel.  Beside 
him  on  the  stone  step  lay  the  brass-cor- 
nered mahogany  dueling  case  with  both 
weapons  gone. 

The  only  other  light  visible  was  the 
glowing  eye  of  the  tall  tower. 

“ Where ’s  the  colonel  ? " we  both  asked 
in  a breath. 

Chad  kept  the  light  aloft  with  one  hand 
like  an  ebony  Statue  of  Liberty,  and  pointed 
straight  ahead  into  the  tunnel  with  the 
other. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  12 3 


“ Mo’  to  the  left,”  came  the  voice. 

Chad  swayed  the  candle  towards  the 
broken-down  fence,  and  sent  his  magnified 
shadow  scurrying  up  the  measly  wall  and 
halfway  over  to  the  next  house. 

“So!  Now  steady.” 

The  darky  stood  like  the  Sphinx,  the  light 
streaming  atop  of  the  tall  candlestick,  and 
then  said  from  out  one  side  of  his  mouth, 
“ Spec’  you  gemmen  better  squat ; she ’s 
gwineter  bite.” 

Fitz  peered  into  the  tunnel,  caught  the 
gleam  of  a pistol  held  in  a shadowy  hand, 
made  a clear  leap,  and  landed  out  of  range 
among  the  broken  flower-pots.  I sprang 
behind  the  hydrant,  and  at  the  same  in- 
stant another  cap  snapped. 

“ Ah,  gentlemen,”  said  the  voice  emerg- 
ing from  the  tunnel.  “ Had  I been  quite 
sure  of  myself  I should  have  sent  for  you. 
I used  to  snuff  a candle  at  fo’ty  yards,  and 
but  that  my  powder  is  a little  old  I could 
do  it  ag’in.” 


CHAPTER  VII 


Tut  Outcome  of  a Council  of  War 

When  early  the  next  morning,  Fitz  and 
I arrived  at  the  colonel’s  office  he  was 
already  on  hand  and  in  a state  of  high 
nervous  excitement.  His  coat,  which,  so 
far  as  a coat  might,  always  expressed  in  its 
various  combinations  the  condition  of  his 
mind,  was  buttoned  close  up  under  his 
chin,  giving  to  his  slender  figure  quite  a 
military  air.  He  was  pacing  the  floor  with 
measured  tread ; one  hand  thrust  into  his 
-bosom,  senator  fashion,  the  other  held  be- 
hind his  back. 

“ Not  a line,  suh ; not  the  scrape  of  a 
pen.  If  his  purpose,  suh,  is  to  ignore  me 
altogether,  I shall  horsewhip  him  on  sight.” 

“ Have  you  looked  through  the  firm’s 
mail  ? ” said  Fitz,  glad  of  the  respite. 

“ Eve’ywhere,  suh  — not  a scrap.” 

“ I will  hunt  him  up  ; ” and  Fitz  hurried 
down  to  Klutchem’s  office  in  the  hope  of 
either  intercepting  the  challenge  or  of  pa- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  13J 


cifying  the  object  of  the  colonel’s  wrath,  if 
by  any  good  chance  the  letter  should  have 
been  delayed  until  the  morning. 

In  ten  minutes  he  returned  with  the 
mystifying  news  that  Mr.  Klutchem’s  let- 
ters had  been  sent  to  his  apartment  the 
night  before,  and  that  a telegram  had  just 
been  received  notifying  his  clerks  that  he 
would  not  be  down  that  day. 

“ Escaped,  suh,  has  he  ? Run  like  a 
dog  ! Like  a yaller  dog  as  he  is  ! Where 
has  he  gone  ? ” 

“ After  a policeman,  I guess,”  said  Fitz. 

The  colonel  stopped,  and  an  expression 
of  profound  contempt  overspread  his  face. 

“ If  the  gentleman  has  fallen  so  low, 
suh,  that  he  proposes  to  go  about  with  a 
constable  taggin’  after  his  heels,  you  can 
tell  him,  suh,  that  he  is  safe  even  from  my 
boot.” 

Then  he  shut  the  door  of  the  private 
office  in  undisguised  disgust,  leaving  Fitz 
and  me  on  the  outside. 

“What  are  we  going  to  do,  Major?” 
said  Fitz,  now  really  anxious.  “ I am  pos- 
itive that  old  Klutchem  has  either  left 
town  or  is  at  this  moment  at  police  head- 
quarters. If  so,  the  dear  old  fellow  will 


128  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


be  locked  up  before  sundown.  Klutchera 
got  that  letter  last  night.” 

It  was  at  once  decided  to  head  off  the 
broker,  Fitz  keeping  an  eye  on  his  office 
every  half  hour  in  the  hope  that  he  might 
turn  up,  and  I completing  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  colonel’s  bail  so  as  to  fore- 
stall the  possibility  of  his  remaining  in  cus- 
tody overnight. 

Fitz  spent  the  day  in  efforts  to  lay 
hands  on  Klutchem  in  order  to  prevent  the 
law  performing  the  same  service  for  the 
colonel.  My  own  arrangements  were  more 
easily  completed,  a friend  properly  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  real  estate  to  make  good 
his  bond  being  in  readiness  for  any  emer- 
gency. One  o’clock  came,  then  three, 
jthen  five ; the  colonel  all  the  time  keeping 
to  the  seclusion  of  his  private  office,  Fitz 
watching  for  Klutchem,  and  I waiting  in 
the  larger  office  for  the  arrival  of  one  of 
those  clean-shaven,  thick-set  young  men, 
in  a Derby  hat  and  sack-coat,  the  unex- 
pected pair  of  handcuffs  in  his  outside 
pocket. 

The  morning  of  the  second  day  the  situ- 
ation remained  still  unchanged ; Fitz  had 
been  unable  to  find  Klutchem  either  at  his 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  129 


otfice  or  at  his  lodgings,  the  colonel  was 
still  without  any  reply  from  his  antagonist, 
and  no  young  man  answering  to  my  fears 
had  put  in  any  appearance  whatever. 

The  only  new  features  were  a telegram 
from  Tom  Yancey  to  the  effect  that  he 
and  Judge  Kerfoot  would  arrive  about 
noon,  and  another  from  the  judge  himself 
begging  a postponement  until  they  could 
reach  the  field. 

Fitz  read  both  dispatches  in  a corner 
by  himself,  with  a face  expressive  of  the 
effect  these  combined  troubles  were  mak- 
ing upon  his  otherwise  happy  countenance. 
He  then  crumpled  them  up  in  his  hand 
and  slid  them  into  his  pocket. 

Up  to  this  time  not  a soul  in  the  office 
except  the  colonel,  Fitz,  and  I had  the 
faintest  hint  of  the  impending  tragedy,  it 
being  one  of  the  colonel's  maxims  that  all 
affairs  of  honor  demanded  absolute  silence. 

u If  yo'  enemy  falls,"  he  would  say,  “ it 
is  mo’  co'teous  to  say  nothin'  but  good 
of  the  dead ; and  when  you  cannot  say 
that,  better  keep  still.  If  he  is  alive  let 
him  do  the  talkin’  — he  will  soon  kill  him- 
self.” 

Fitz  kept  still  because  he  felt  sure  if  he 


/jo  Colonel  Carier  of  Cartersviile 


could  get  hold  of  Klutchem  the  whole 
affair — either  outcome  powder  or  law  — 
could  be  prevented. 

“ Just  as  I had  got  the  syndicate  to  look 
into  the  coal  land,”  said  Fitz,  “which  is 
the  only  thing  the  colonel ’s  got  worth 
talking  about,  here  he  goes  and  gets  into  a 
first-class  cast-iron  scrape  like  this.  What 
a lovely  old  udiot  he  is  ! But  I tell  you. 
Major,  something  has  got  to  be  done  about 
this  shooting  business  right  away ! Here 
I have  arranged  for  a meeting  at  the  colo- 
nel’s house  on  Saturday  to  discuss  this 
new  coal  development,  and  the  syndicate’s 
agent  is  coming,  and  yet  we  can’t  for  the 
life  of  us  tell  whether  the  colonel  will  be 
on  his  way  home  in  a pine  box  or  locked 
up  here  for  trying  to  murder  that  old  wind- 
bag. It ’s  horrible  ! 

“And  to  cap  the  climax,” — and  he  pulled 
out  the  crumpled  telegrams,  — “ here  come 
a gang  of  fire-eaters  who  will  make  it  twice 
as  difficult  for  me  to  settle  anything.  I 
wish  I could  find  Klutchem ! ” 

While  he  spoke  the  office  door  opened, 
ushering  in  a stout  man  with  a red  face, 
accompanied  by  an  elderly  white-haired  gen- 
tleman, in  a butternut  suit.  The  red-faced 


Colonel  Carter  oj  Cartersville  131 


man  was  carrying  a carpet  bag  — not  the 
Northern  variety  of  wagon-curtain  canvas, 
but  the  old-fashioned  carpet  kind  with 
leather  handies  and  a mouth  like  a catfish. 
The  snuff-colored  gentleman’s  only  charge 
was  a heavy  hickory  cane  and  an  umbrella 
with  a waist  like  a market-woman’s. 

The  red-faced  man  took  off  a wide  straw 
hat  and  uncovered  a head  slightly  bald  and 
reeking  with  perspiration. 

“ I ’m  lookin’  fur  Colonel  Caarter,  suh. 
Is  he  in  ? ” 

Fitz  pointed  to  the  door  of  the  private 
office,  and  the  elderly  man  drew  his  cane 
and  rapped  twice.  The  colonel  must  have 
recognized  the  signal  as  familiar,  for  the 
door  opened  with  a spring,  and  the  next 
moment  he  had  them  both  by  the  hands. 

“Why,  Jedge,  this  is  indeed  an  honor  — 
and  Tom  ! Of  co’se  I knew  you  would 
come,  Tom ; but  the  Jedge  I did  not  expec* 
until  I got  yo’  telegram.  Give  me  yo’  bag, 
and  put  yo’  umbrella  in  the  corner. 

“ Here  Fitz,  Major ; both  of  you  come 
in  here  at  once. 

“Jedge  Kerfoot,  gentlemen,  of  the  dis- 
trict co’te  of  Fairfax  County.  Major  Tom 
Yancey,  of  the  army.” 


i$2  Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


The  civilities  over,  extra  chairs  were 
brought  in,  the  door  again  closed,  and  a 
council  of  war  was  held. 

Major  Yancey's  first  word  — but  I must 
describe  Yancey.  Imagine  a short,  oily 
skinned,  perpetually  perspiring  sort  of  man 
of  forty,  with  a decollete  collar,  a double- 
breasted  waistcoat  with  glass  buttons, 
and  skin-tight  light  trousers  held  down  to 
a pair  of  high-heeled  boots  by  leather 
straps.  The  space  between  his  waistband 
and  his  waistcoat  was  made  good  by  certain 
puckerings  of  his  shirt  anxious  to  escape 
the  thralldom  of  his  suspenders.  His 
paunch  began  and  ended  so  suddenly  that 
he  constantly  reminded  you  of  a man  who 
had  swallowed  a toy  balloon. 

Yancey's  first  word  was  an  anxious  in- 
quiry as  to  whether  he  was  late,  adding, 
“ I came  ez  soon  ez  I could  settle  some  busi- 
ness mattahs."  He  had  borrowed  his  trav- 
eling expenses  from  Kerfoot,  who  in  turn 
had  borrowed  them  from  Miss  Nancy,  keep- 
ing the  impending  duel  carefully  concealed 
from  that  dear  lady,  and  reading  only  such 
part  of  the  colonel’s  letter  as  referred  to 
the  drawing  up  of  some  important  papers  in 
which  he  was  to  figure  as  chief  executor. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  155 


“Late?  No,  Tom,”  said  the  colonel; 
“but  the  scoundreh has  run  to  cover.  We 
are  watchin’  his  hole.” 

“You  sholy  don’t  tell  me  he ’s  got  away, 
Colonel  ?”  replied  Major  Yancey. 

“What  could  I do,  Yancey  ? He  hasn’t 
had  the  decency  to  answer  my  letter.” 
Yancey,  however,  on  hearing  more  fully 
the  facts,  clung  to  the  hope  that  the  Yan- 
kee would  yet  be  smoked  out. 

“ I of  co’se  am  not  familiar  with  the 
code  as  practiced  Nawth  — perhaps  these 
delays  are  permis’ble ; but  in  my  county 
a challenge  is  a ball,  and  a man  is  killed 
or  wounded  ez  soon  ez  the  ink  is  dry  on 
the  papah.  The  time  he  has  to  live  is  only 
a mattah  of  muddy  roads  or  convenience 
of  seconds.  Is  there  no  way  in  which  this 
can  be  fixed  ? I doan’t  like  to  return  home 
without  an  effo’t  bein’  made.” 

The  colonel,  anxious  to  place  the  exact 
situation  before  Major  Yancey  so  that  he 
might  go  back  fully  assured  that  everything 
that  a Carter  could  do  had  been  done,  read 
the  copy  of  the  challenge,  gave  the  details 
of  Fitz’s  efforts  to  find  Klutchem,  the  re- 
peated visits  to  his  office,  and  finally  the 
call  at  his  apartments. 


1 34  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


The  major  listened  attentively,  consulted 
aside  with  the  judge,  and  then  in  an  au- 
thoritative tone,  made  the  more  impressive 
by  the  decided  way  with  which  he  hitched 
up  his  trousers,  said  : — 

“You  have  done  all  that  a high-toned 
Southern  gemman  could  do,  Colonel.  Yo’ 
honor,  suh,  is  without  a stain.” 

In  which  opinion  he  was  sustained  by 
Kerfoot,  who  proved  to  be  a ponderous 
sort  of  old-fashioned  county  judge,  and 
who  accentuated  his  decision  by  bringing 
down  his  cane  with  a bang. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  in  the  pri- 
vate office  under  cover  of  profound  secrecy, 
another  sort  of  consultation  of  a much 
more  public  character  was  being  held  in 
the  office  outside. 

A very  bright  young  man — one  of  the 
clerks  — held  in  his  hand  a large  envelope, 
bearing  on  one  end  the  printed  address  of 
the  firm  whose  private  office  the  colonel 
was  at  that  moment  occupying  as  a coun- 
cil chamber.  It  was  addressed  in  the  colo- 
ners well-known  round  hand.  This  was  not 
the  fact,  however,  which  excited  interest ; 
for  the  colonel  never  used  any  other  envel- 
opes than  those  of  the  firm. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  135 


The  postman,  who  had  just  taken  it  from 
his  bag,  wanted  to  deliver  it  at  its  desti- 
nation. The  proprietor  wanted  to  throw 
it  back  into  the  box  for  remailing,  believ- 
ing it  to  be  a Garden  Spot  circular,  and 
so  of  no  especial  importance.  The  bright 
young  man  wanted  to  return  it  to  the  colo- 
nel. 

The  bright  young  man  prevailed,  rapped 
at  the  door,  and  laid  the  letter  under  the 
colonel’s  nose.  It  bore  this  address  : — 

P.  A.  Klutchem,  Esq., 

Room  21,  Star  Building,  Wall  Street, 

Immediate.  New  York. 

The  colonel  turned  pale  and  broke  the 
seal.  Out  dropped  his  challenge ! 

“ Where  did  you  get  this  ? ” he  asked, 
aghast. 

“ From  the  carrier.  It  was  held  for 
postage.” 

Had  a bombshell  been  exploded  the  ef- 
fect could  not  have  been  more  startling. 

Yancey  was  the  first  man  on  his  feet. 

“ And  the  scoundrel  never  got  it ! Here, 
Colonel,  give  me  the  letter.  I ’ll  go  through 


136  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 

this  town  like  a fine-tooth  comb  but  what 
I 'll  find  him.  He  will  never  escape  me. 
My  name  is  Yancey,  suh ! ” 

The  judge  was  more  conservative.  He 
had  grave  doubts  as  to  whether  a second 
challenge,  after  a delay  of  two  days  and 
two  nights,  could  be  sent  at  all.  The  tra- 
ditions of  the  Carter  family  were  a word 
and  a blow,  not  a blow  and  a word  in  two 
days.  To  intrust  the  letter  to  the  United 
States  mail  was  a grave  mistake  ; the  colo- 
nel might  have  known  that  it  would  mis- 
carry. 

Fitz  said  grimly  that  letters  always  did, 
without  stamps.  The  Government  was 
running  the  post-office  on  a business  basis, 
not  for  its  health. 

Yancey  looked  at  Fitz  as  if  the  interrup- 
tion wearied  him,  then,  turning  to  the  colo- 
nel, said  that  he  was  dumbfounded  that  a 
man  who  had  been  raised  as  Colonel  Car- 
ter could  have  violated  so  plain  a rule  of 
the  code.  A challenge  should  always  be 
delivered  by  the  hand  of  the  challenger’s 
friend.  It  should  never  be  mailed. 

The  poor  colonel,  who  since  the  discov- 
ery of  the  unstamped  letter  had  sat  in  a 
heap  buried  in  his  coat  collar,  — the  mili- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  / 37 


tary  button  having  given  way,  — now  gave 
his  version  of  the  miscarriage. 

He  began  by  saying  that  when  his  friend 
Major  Yancey  became  conversant  with  all 
the  facts  he  would  be  more  lenient  with 
him.  He  had,  he  said,  found  the  proprie- 
tor’s drawer  locked,  and,  not  having  a stamp 
about  him,  had  dropped  the  document  into 
the  mail-box  with  the  firm’s  letters,  pre- 
suming that  the  clerks  would  affix  the  tax 
the  Government  imposed.  That  the  docu- 
ment had  reached  the  post-office  was  evi- 
denced by  the  date-stamp  on  the  envelope. 
It  seemed  to  him  a picayune  piece  of  busi- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  authorities  to  de- 
tain it,  and  all  for  the  paltry  sum  of  two 
cents. 

Major  Yancey  conferred  with  the  judge 
for  a moment,  and  then  said  that  the  colo- 
nel’s explanation  had  relieved  him  of  all 
responsibility.  He  owed  him  a humble 
apology,  and  he  shook  his  hand.  Colonel 
Carter  had  done  all  that  a high-bred  gen- 
tleman could  do.  The  letter  was  intrusted 
to  the  care  of  Mr.  Klutchem’s  own  govern- 
ment, the  post-office  as  now  conducted 
being  peculiarly  a Yankee  institution. 

“ If  Mr.  Klutchem’s  own  government, 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


gem  men,”  — and  he  repeated  it  with  a ris- 
ing voice,  — “ if  Mr.  Klutchem’s  own  gov- 
ernment does  not  trust  him  enough  to  de- 
liver to  him  a letter  in  advance  of  a payment 
of  two  cents,  such  action,  while  highly  dis- 
creditable to  Mr.  Klutchem,  certainly  does 
not  relieve  that  gemman  from  the  respon- 
sibility of  answerin’  Colonel  Caarter.” 

The  colonel  said  the  point  was  well  taken, 
and  the  judge  sustained  him. 

Yancey  looked  around  with  the  air  of  a 
country  lawyer  who  had  tripped  up  a wit- 
ness, decorated  a corner  of  the  carpet,  and 
continued  : — 

“ My  idee,  suh,  now  that  I am  on  the 
ground,  is  for  me  to  wait  upon  the  gemman 
at  once,  hand  him  the  orig’nal  challenge, 
and  demand  an  immediate  answer.  That 
is,”  turning  to  Fitz,  “unless  he  is  in  hid- 
in’.” 

Fitz  replied  that  it  was  pretty  clear  to 
him  that  a man  could  not  hide  from  a chal- 
lenge he  had  never  received.  It  was  quite 
evident  that  Klutchem  was  detained  some- 
where. 

The  colonel  coincided,  and  said  in  jus- 
tice to  his  antagonist  that  he  would  have 
to  acquit  him  of  this  charge.  He  did  not 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  1 39 


now  believe  that  Mr.  Klutchem  had  run 
away. 

Fitz,  who  up  to  this  time  had  enjoyed 
every  turn  in  the  discussion,  and  who  had 
listened  to  Yancey  with  a face  like  a stone 
god,  his  knees  shaking  with  laughter,  now 
threw  another  bombshell  almost  as  disas- 
trous as  the  first. 

“ Besides,  gentlemen,  I don’t  think  Mr. 
Klutchem’s  remarks  were  insulting.” 

The  colonel’s  head  rose  out  of  his  collar 
with  a jerk,  and  the  forelegs  of  Yancey’s 
chair  struck  the  floor  with  a thump.  Both 
sprang  to  their  feet.  The  judge  and  I re- 
mained quiet.  **  Not  insultin’,  suh,  to  call 
a gemman  a — a — Colonel,  what  did  the 
scoundrel  call  you  ? ” 

“ It  was  mo’  his  manner,”  replied  the 
colonel.  “ He  was  familiar,  suh,  and  pre- 
sumin’ and  offensive.” 

Yancey  broke  away  again,  but  Fitz  side- 
tracked him  with  a gesture,  and  asked  the 
colonel  to  repeat  Klutchem’s  exact  words. 

The  colonel  gazed  at  the  ceiling  a mo 
ment,  and  replied  : — 

u Mr.  Klutchem  said  that,  outside  of  pea^ 
nuts  and  sweet  potatoes,  all  my  road  would 
git  for  freight  would  be  niggers  and  razor- 
back  hogs.” 


140  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ Mr.  Klutchera  was  right,  Colonel,”  said 
Fitz.  “Very  sensible  man.  They  will 
form  a very  large  part  of  our  freight.  Any- 
thing offensive  in  that  remark  of  Klutch- 
em’s,  Major  Yancey?” 

The  major  conferred  with  the  judge,  and 
said  reluctantly  that  there  was  not. 

“ Go  on,  Colonel,”  continued  Fitz. 

“ Then,  suh,  he  said  he  would  n’t  trade  a 
yaller  dog  for  enough  of  our  bonds  to  papah 
a meetin’-house.” 

“ Did  he  call  you  a yaller  dog  ? ” said 
Yancey  searchingly,  and  straightening 
himself  up. 

“No.” 

“ Call  anybody  connected  with  you  a 
yaller  dog  ? ” 

“ Can’t  say  that  he  did.” 

“ Call  yo’  railroad  a yaller  dog  ? ” 

“ No,  don’t  think  so,”  said  the  colonel, 
now  thoroughly  confused  and  adrift. 

Yancey  consulted  with  the  judge  a mo- 
ment in  one  corner,  and  then  said  grave- 
ly:— 

“ Unless  some  mo’  direct  insult  is  stated, 
Colonel,  we  must  agree  with  yo’  friend  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick,  and  consider  yo’  action  hasty. 
Now,  if  you  had  pressed  the  gemman,  and 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersruille  141 


he  had  called  you  a yaller  dog  or  a liar, 
somethin'  might  be  done.  Why  didn’t  you 
press  him  ? ” 

" I did,  suh.  I told  him  his  statements 
were  false  and  his  manners  vulgar.” 

“ And  he  did  not  talk  back  ? ” 

“No,  suh  ; on'y  laughed.” 

“ Sneeringly,  and  in  a way  that  sounded 
like  * Yo'  're  another'?” 

The  colonel  could  not  remember  that  it 
was. 

Yancey  ruminated,  and  Fitz  now  took  a 
hand. 

“On  the  contrary,  Major  Yancey,  Mr. 
Klutchem's  laugh  was  a very  jolly  laugh  -; 
and,  under  the  circumstances,  a laugh  very 
creditable  to  his  good  nature.  You  are 
young  and  impetuous,  but  I know  my 
learned  friend,  Judge  Kerfoot,  will  agree 
with  me”  — here  Yancey  patted  his  toy 
balloon  complacently,  and  the  judge  leaded 
forward  with  rapt  attention  — “ when  I say 
that  if  any  apologies  are  in  order  they  should 
not  come  from  Mr.  Klutchem.” 

It  was  delicious  to  note  how  easily  Fitz 
fell  into  the  oratorical  method  of  his  hear- 
ers. 

“ Here  is  a man  immersed  in  stocks,  and 


142  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


totally  ignorant  of  the  boundless  resources 
of  your  State,  who  limits  the  freight  of  our 
road  to  four  staples,  — peanuts,  hogs,  sweet 
potatoes,  and  niggers.  As  a further  ex. 
hibition  of  his  ignorance  he  estimates  the 
value  of  a large  block  of  our  securities  as 
far  below  the  price  set  upon  a light,  tan- 
colored  canine,  a^very  inexpensive  animal ; 
or,  as  he  puts  it,  and  perhaps  too  coarsely, 
» — a yellow  dog.  For  the  expression  of  these 
financial  opinions  in  an  open  office  during 
business  hours  he  is  set  upon,  threatened 
with  expulsion,  and  finally  challenged  to  a 
mortal  duel.  I ask  you,  as  chivalric  Vir- 
ginians, is  this  right  ? ” 

Yancey  was  about  to  answer,  when  the 
judge  raised  his  hand  impressively. 

“ The  co’te,  not  being  familiar  with  the 
practice  of  this  section,  can  on’y  decide  the 
question  in  acco’dance  with  the  practice  of 
his  own  county.  The  language  used  is  not 
objectionable,  either  under  the  law  or  by 
the  code.  The  prisoner,  Klutchem,  is  dis- 
charged with  a reprimand,  and  the  plain- 
tiff, Caarter,  leaves  the  co’te  room  without 
a stain  on  his  character.  The  co’te  will  now 
take  a recess.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  14 3 


Fitz  listened  with  great  gravity  to  the 
decision  of  the  learned  judge,  bowed  to  him 
with  the  pleased  deference  of  the  winning 
attorney,  grasped  the  colonel’s  hand,  and 
congratulated  him  warmly  on  his  acquittal. 


Then,  locking  his  arm  through  Yancey’s, 
he  conducted  that  pugnacious  but  parched 
Virginian,  together  with  the  overworked 
judge,  out  into  the  street,  down  a flight  of 
stone  steps,  and  into  an  underground  apart- 
ment ; from  which  they  all  emerged  later 
with  that  satisfied,  cheerful  air  peculiar  to 


§44  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


a group  of  men  who  have  slaked  their 
thirst 

The  colonel  and  I remained  behind.  He 
was  in  no  mood  for  such  frivolity. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


A High  Sense  of  Honor 

While  the  judge’s  decision  had  relieved 
the  colonel  of  all  responsibility  so  far  as 
Yancey  and  Cartersville.  were  concerned, 
— and  Yancey  would  be  Cartersville  when 
he  was  back  at  the  tavern  stove,  — there 
was  one  person  it  had  not  satisfied,  and 
that  was  the  colonel  himself. 

He  began  pacing  the  floor,  recounting 
for  my  benefit  the  various  courtesies  he 
had  received  since  he  had  lived  at  the 
North,  — not  only  from  the  proprietors  of 
the  office,  but  from  every  one  of  its  fre- 
quenters. And  yet  after  all  these  civilities 
he  had  so  far  forgotten  himself  as  to  chal- 
lenge a friend  of  his  host,  a very  worthy 
gentleman,  who,  although  a trifle  brusque 
in  his  way  of  putting  things,  was  still  an 
open-hearted  man.  And  all  because  he 
differed  with  him  on  a matter  of  finance. 

“The  mo’  I think  of  it,  Major,  the  mo* 
I am  overwhelmed  by  my  action.  It  was 


146  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


inconsiderate,  suh.  It  was  uncalled  for, 
suh ; and  I am  afraid  ” — and  here  he  low- 
ered his  voice  — “ it  was  ill-bred  and  vulgar. 
What  could  those  gentlemen  who  stood 
by  have  thought  ? They  have  all  been  so 
good  to  me,  Major.  I have  betrayed  their 
hospitality.  I have  forgotten  my  blood, 
suh.  There  is  certainly  an  apology  due 
Mr.  Klutchem.” 

At  this  juncture  Fitz  returned,  followed 
by  Yancey,  who  was  beaming  all  over,  the 
judge  bringing  up  the  rear. 

All  three  listened  attentively. 

“Who ’s  goin’  to  apologize?”  said  Yan- 
cey, shifting  his  thumbs  from  his  armholes 
to  the  side  pockets  of  his  vest,  from  which 
he  pinched  up  some  shreds  of  tobacco. 

“ I am,  suh ! ” replied  the  colonel. 

“What  for,  Colonel?”  The  doctrine 
was  new  to  Yancey. 

“ For  my  own  sense  of  honor,  suhF 

“But  he  never  got  the  challenge.” 

“ That  makes  no  diff’ence,  suh.  I wrote 
it.”  And  the  colonel  threw  his  head  up, 
and  looked  Major  Yancey  straight  in  the 
eye. 

“ But,  Colonel,  we ’ve  got  the  letter. 
Klutchem  don’t  know  a word  about  it.” 


Colonel  Carter  oj  Cartersville  147 


“But  I do,  Major  Yancey;  and  so  do 
you  and  Fitz,  and  the  jedge  and  the  major 
here.  We  all  know  it.  Do  you  suppose, 
suh,  for  one  instant,  that  I am  cowardly 
enough  to  stab  a man  in  the  back  this  way 
and  give  him  no  chance  of  defendin’  him- 
self ? It  is  monst’ous,  suh  ! Why,  suh,  it ’s 
no  better  than  insultin’  a deaf  man,  and 
then  tryin’  to  escape  because  he  did  not 
hear  you.  I tell  you,  suh,  I shall  apologize. 
Fitz,  kindly  inquire  outside  if  there  is  any 
news  of  Mr.  Klutchem.” 

Fitz  opened  the  door,  and  sent  the  in- 
quiry ringing  through  the  office. 

“Yes!”  came  a voice  from  around  the 
“ticker.”  “Went  to  the  races  two  days 
ago,  got  soaking  wet,  and  has  been  laid  up 
ever  since  at  a friend’s  house  with  the 
worst  attack  of  gout  he  ever  had  in  his 
life.” 

The  colonel  started  as  if  he  had  been 
stung,  put  on  his  hat,  and  with  a deter- 
mined air  buttoned  his  coat  over  his  chest. 
Then,  charging  Yancey  and  the  judge  not 
to  leave  the  office  until  he  returned,  he 
beckoned  Fitz  to  him,  and  said  : — 

“We  have  not  a moment  to  lose.  Get 
Mr.  Klutchem’s  address,  and  order  a caar- 
riage.” 


148  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


It  was  the  custom  with  Fitz  never  to 
cross  the  colonel  in  any  one  of  his  sudden 
whims.  Whether  this  was  because  he  liked 
to  indulge  him,  or  because  it  gave  him  an 
opportunity  to  study  a type  of  man  entirely 
new  to  him,  the  result  was  always  the  same, 
— the  colonel  had  his  way.  Had  the  Vir- 
ginian insisted  upon  waiting  on  the  offend- 
ing broker  in  a palanquin  or  upon  the  top 
of  a four-in-hand,  Fitz  would  have  found  the 
vehicle  somehow,  and  have  crawled  in  or 
on  top  beside  him  with  as  much  compla- 
cency as  if  he  had  spent  his  whole  life  with 
palanquins  and  coaches,  and  had  had  no 
other  interests.  So  when  the  order  came 
for  the  carriage,  Fitz  winked  at  me  with 
his  left  eye,  walked  to  the  sidewalk,  whis- 
tled to  a string  of  cabs,  and  the  next  in- 
stant we  were  all  three  whirling  up  the 
crowded  street  in  search  of  the  bedridden 
broker. 

The  longer  the  colonel  brooded  over  the 
situation  the  more  he  was  satisfied  with 
the  idea  of  the  apology.  Indeed,  before 
he  had  turned  down  the  side  street  leading 
to  the  temporary  hospital  of  the  suffering 
man,  he  had  arranged  in  his  mind  just 
where  the  ceremony  would  take  place,  and 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  149 


just  how  he  would  frame  his  opening  sen- 
tence. He  was  glad,  too,  that  Klutchem 
had  been  discovered  so  soon  — while  Yan- 
cey and  Kerfoot  were  still  in  town. 

The  colonel  alighted  first,  ran  up  the 
steps,  pulled  the  bell  with  the  air  of  a doc- 
tor called  to  an  important  case,  and  sent 
his  card  to  the  first  floor  back. 

“ Mr.  Klutchem  says,  * Walk  up/  ” said 
the  maid. 

The  broker  was  in  an  armchair  with  his 
back  to  the  door,  only  the  top  of  his  bald 
head  being  visible  as  we  entered.  On  a 
stool  in  front  rested  a foot  of  enormous 
size  swathed  in  bandages.  Leaning  against 
his  chair  were  a pair  of  crutches.  He  was 
somewhat  startled  at  the  invasion,  made  as 
it  was  in  the  busiest  part  of  the  day. 

“ What  ’s  up  ? Anybody  busted  ? ” 

Fitz  assured  him  that  the  Street  was  in 
a mood  of  the  greatest  tranquillity;  that 
the  visit  was  purely  personal,  and  made  for 
the  express  purpose  of  offering  Colonel 
Carter  an  opportunity  of  relieving  his  mind 
of  a pressure  which  at  the  precise  moment 
was  greater  than  he  could  bear. 

“ Out  with  it,  old  Garden  — Colonel,” 
broke  out  Klutchem,  catching  himself  in 


tjo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


time,  and  apparently  greatly  relieved  that 
the  situation  was  no  worse. 

The  colonel,  who  remained  standing, 
bowed  courteously,  drew  himself  up  with  a 
dress-parade  gesture,  and  recounted  slowly 
and  succinctly  the  incidents  of  the  preced- 
ing three  days. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  drawing-up  of 
the  challenge,  Klutchem  looked  around 
curiously,  gathered  in  his  crutches  with  his 
well  leg,  — prepared  for  escape  or  defense, 
— and  remained  thus  equipped  until  the 
colonel  reached  the  secret  consultation  in 
the  private  office  and  the  return  of  the  un- 
stamped letter.  Then  he  toppled  his  sup- 
ports over  on  the  floor,  and  laughed  until 
the  pain  in  his  elephantine  foot  bent  him 
double. 

The  colonel  paused  until  Klutchem  had 
recovered  himself,  and  then  continued,  his 
face  still  serene,  and  still  expressive  of  a 
purpose  so  lofty  that  it  excluded  every 
other  emotion. 

“The  return  of  my  challenge  unopened, 
suh,  coupled  with  the  broad  views  of  my 
distinguished  friends  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and 
the  major, — both  personal  friends  of  yo* 
own,  I believe,  — and  the  calmer  reflection 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carlersville  / 5/ 


of  my  own  mind,  have  convinced  me,  Mr. 
Klutchem,  that  I have  been  hasty  and  have 
done  you  a wrong ; and,  suh,  rememberin’ 
my  blood,  I have  left  the  cares  of  my  office 
for  a brief  moment  to  call  upon  you  at 
once,  and  tell  you  so.  I regret,  suh,  that 
you  have  not  the  use  of  both  yo’  legs,  but 
I have  anticipated  that  difficulty.  My  caar- 
riage  is  outside.” 

“ Don’t  mention  it,  Colonel.  You  never 
grazed  me.  If  you  want  to  plaster  that 
syndicate  all  over  with  Garden  Spots,  go 
ahead.  I won’t  say  a word.  There  ’s  my 
hand.” 

The  colonel  never  altered  a line  in  his 
face  nor  moved  a muscle  of  his  body.  Mr. 
Klutchem’s  hand  remained  suspended  in 
mid  air. 

“ Yo’  action  is  creditable  to  yo’  heart, 
suh,  but  you  know,  of  course,  that  I cannot 
take  yo’  hand  here.  I insulted  you  in  a 
public  office,  and  in  the  presence  of  yo’ 
friends  and  of  mine,  some  of  whom  are  at 
this  moment  awaitin’  our  return.  I feel 
assured,  suh,  that  under  the  circumstances 
you  will  make  an  effort,  however  painful  it 
may  be  to  you,  to  relieve  me  from  this  stain 
on  my  cha’acter.  Allow  me  to  offer  you 


I $2  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


my  arm,  and  help  you  to  my  caarriage,  suh. 
I will  not  detain  you  mo’  than  an  hour.” 
Klutchem  looked  at  him  in  perfect  aston- 
ishment. 

“What  for?” 

The  colonel’s  color  rose. 

“ That  this  matter  may  be  settled  prop- 
erly, suh.  I insulted  you  publicly  in  my 
office.  I wish  to  apologize  in  the  same 
way.  It  is  my  right,  suh.” 

“ But  I can’t  walk.  Look  at  that  foot, 
— big  as  a hatbox.” 

“ My  friends  will  assist  you,  suh.  I will 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  153 


carry  yo’  crutches  myself.  Consider  my 
situation.  You  surely,  as  a man  of  honor, 
will  not  refuse  me  this,  Mr.  Klutchem  ? ” 

The  colonel’s  eyes  began  to  snap,  and 
Fitz  edged  round  to  pour  oil  when  the  wind 
freshened.  Klutchem’s  temper  was  also  on 
the  move. 

“ Get  out  of  this  chair  with  that  mush 
poultice,”  pointing  to  his  foot,  “and  have 
you  cart  me  down  to  Wall  Street  to  tell 
me  you  are  sorry  you  did  n’t  murder  me  ! 
What  do  you  take  me  for  ? ” 

The  colonel’s  eyes  now  fairly  blazed,  and 
his  voice  trembled  with  suppressed  anger. 

“ I did  take  you,  suh,  for  a gentleman. 
I find  I am  mistaken.  And  you  refuse  to 
go,  and  ” — 

“Yes!”  roared  Klutchem,  his  voice 
splitting  the  air  like  a tomahawk. 

“ Then,  suh,  let  me  tell  you  right  here 
that  if  you  do  not  get  up  now  and  get  into 
my  caarriage,  whenever  you  can  stand  on 
yo’  wuthless  legs,  I will  thresh  you  so,  suh, 
that  you  will  never  get  up  any  mo’.” 


V 


CHAPTER  IX 
A Visit  of  Ceremony 

The  Honorable  I.  B.  Kerfoot,  presiding 
judge  of  the  district  court  of  Fairfax  Coun- 
ty, Virginia,  and  the  gallant  Major  Thomas 
C.  Yancey,  late  of  the  Confederate  army, 
had  been  the  colonel’s  guests  at  his  hos- 
pitable house  in  Bedford  Place  for  a period 


Colonel  Carter  oj  Cartersville  155 


of  six  days  and  six  nights,  when  my  cards 
— two  — were  given  to  Chad,  together  with 
my  verbal  hopes  that  both  gentlemen  were 
within. 

My  visit  was  made  in  conformity  with 
one  of  the  colonel's  inflexible  rules,  — every 
guest  under  his  roof,  within  one  week  of 
his  arrival,  was  to  be  honored  by  a personal 
call  from  every  friend  within  reach. 

No  excuse  would  have  sufficed  on  the 
ground  of  flying  visits.  And  indeed,  so  far 
as  these  particular  birds  of  passage  were 
concerned,  the  occupation  was  permanent, 
the  judge  having  taken  possession  of  the 
only  shake-down  sofa  on  the  lower  floor, 
and  the  warlike  major  having  plumped  him- 
self into  the  middle  of  the  colonel's  own  bed 
not  ten  minutes  after  his  arrival.  Even  to 
the  casual  Northern  eye,  unaccustomed  to 
the  prolonged  sedentary  life  of  the  average 
Virginian  when  a guest,  there  was  every 
indication  that  these  had  come  to  stay. 

Chad  laid  both  of  my  cards  on  the  table, 
and  indulged  in  a pantomime  more  graphic 
than  spoken  word.  He  shut  his  eyes,  laid 
his  cheek  on  one  hand,  and  gave  a groan  of 
intense  disgust,  followed  by  certain  gleeful 
chuckles,  made  the  more  expressive  by  the 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 

sly  jerking  of  his  thumb  towards  the  din- 
ing-room door  and  the  bobbing  up  and  down 
of  his  fore-finger  in  the  direction  of  the 
bedroom  above. 

“ Bofe  in.  Y es,  sah ! Bofe  in,  an’  bofe 
abed.  Last  I yeard  from  em’  dey  was  hol- 
lerin’ for  juleps.” 

I entered  the  dining-room  and  stopped 
short.  On  a low  sofa  at  the  far  end  of  the 
room  lay  a man  of  more  than  ordinary 
girth,  with  coat,  vest,  and  shoes  off,  his  face 
concealed  by  a newspaper.  From  beneath 
this  sheet  came,  at  regular  intervals,  a long- 
drawn  sound  like  the  subdued  puff  of  a tired 
locomotive  at  rest  on  a side-track.  Beside 
him  was  an  empty  tumbler,  decorated  with 
a broken  straw  and  a spray  of  withered 
mint. 

The  summer  air  fanned  through  the 
closed  blinds  of  the  darkened  room,  and 
played  with  the  silvery  locks  that  straggled 
over  the  white  pillow  ; the  paper  rose  and 
fell  with  a crinkling  noise,  keeping  time  to 
the  rhythm  of  the  exhaust.  Beyond  this 
there  was  no  movement.  The  Hon.  I.  B. 
Kerfoot  was  asleep. 

I watched  the  slowly  heaving  figure  for 
a moment,  picked  up  a chair,  and  gently 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  157 


dosed  the  door.  I could  now  look  the 
colonel  in  the  face  so  far  as  the  judge  was 
concerned.  My  account  with  the  colonel 
was  settled. 

Retiring  to  the  yard  outside,  which  was 
cool  and  shady,  and,  despite  its  dilapidated 
appearance,  a grateful  relief  from  the  glare 
of  the  street,  I tilted  my  chair  against 
the  dissipated  wall,  with  its  damaged  com- 
plexion of  scaling  white-wash,  and  sat  down 
to  await  the  colonel’s  return. 

Meanwhile  Chad  busied  himself  about 
the  kitchen,  moving  in  and  out  the  base- 
ment door,  and  at  last  brought  up  a great 
tin  pan,  seated  himself  on  the  lower  step, 
and  proceeded  to  shell  pease,  indulging  all 
the  while  in  a running  commentary  on  the 
events  of  the  preceding  week. 

One  charm  in  Chad’s  conversation  was 
its  clearness.  You  always  absorbed  his 
meaning.  Another  was  its  reliability. 
When  he  finished  you  had  the  situation  in 
full. 

First  came  the  duel. 

“ So  dat  Ketchem  man  done  got  away  ? 
Doan’  dat  beat  all ! An’  de  colonel  a-mak- 
in’  his  will  an’  a-rubbin’  up  his  old  barkers. 
Can’t  have  no  fun  yer  naaway  ; sumpirf 


158  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


allers  spiles  it.  But  yer  oughter  seen  de 
colonel  dat  day  w’en  he  come  home  ! Sakes 
alive,  warn’t  he  b’ilin’ ! Much  as  Jedge 
Keerfoot  could  do  to  keep  him  from  killin’ 
dat  Yankee  on  de  street.” 

Chad’s  long  brown  fingers  fumbled 
among  the  green  pea-shells,  which  he 
heaped  up  on  one  side  of  the  pan,  and  the 
conversation  soon  changed  to  his  master’s 
“ second  in  the  field.”  I encouraged  this 
divergence,  for  I had  been  charged  by  Fitz 
to  find  out  when  these  two  recent  additions 
to  the  household  in  Bedford  Place  intended 
returning  to  their  native  clime ; that  loyal 
friend  of  the  colonel  being  somewhat  dis- 
turbed over  their  preparations  for  what 
promised  to  be  a lengthy  stay. 

“ ’Fo’  de  Lawd,  I doan’  know!  Tom 
Yancey  nebber  go  s’  long  as  de  mint  patch 
hoi’  out,  an’  de  colonel  bought  putty  near  a 
ba'el  ob  it  dis  mawnin’,  an’  anudder  dimi- 
john  from  Mister  Grocerman.  Makes  my 
blood  bile  to  see  dese  Yanceys,  anyhow. 
See  dat  carpet  bag  w’at  he  fotch  wid  him  ? 
Knowed  w’at  he  had  in  it  w’en  he  opened 
its  mouf  an’  de  jedge  tuk  his  own  clo’es 
outen  it  ? A pair  ob  carpet  slippers,  two 
collars,  an’  a lot  ob  chicken  fixin’s.  Not  a 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cariersville  159 


shirt  to  his  back  ’cept  de  one  he  had  on  ! 
Had  to  stay  abed  yisteddy  till  I i’oned  it. 
Dar ’s  one  ob  his  collars  on  de  line  now. 
Dese  yer  Yanceys  no  ’count  no  way.  Beats 
de  Ian’  how  de  colonel  can  put  up  wid  ’em, 
’cept  his  faader  was  quality.  You  know  de 
old  gineral  married  twice,  de  las’  time  his 
oberseer’s  daughter.  Dat ’s  her  chile  — 
Tom  Yancey  — ’sleep  now  on  de  colonel’s 
bed  upstairs  wid  a straw  in  his  mouf  like 
a shote.  But  de  colonel  say ’t  ain’t  Tom’s 
fault  dat  he  takes  after  his  mammy ; he ’s 
a Yancey,  anyhow.  But  I tell  you.  Major, 
Miss  Nancy  doan’  hab  nuffin’  much  to  do 
wid  ’im,  — she  can’t  abide  ’im.” 

“ How  long  are  they  going  to  stay, 
Chad?”  I asked,  wishing  to  make  a defi- 
nite report  to  Fitz. 

“Doan’  know.^  Ole  groun’-hog  mighty 
comf’ble  in  de  hole.”  And  he  heaped  up 
another  pile  of  shells. 

“ Fust  night  de  jedge  come  he  tol’  de 
colonel  dat  Miss  Nancy  say  we  all  got  to 
come  home  when  de  month ’s  up,  railroad 
or  no  railroad.  Dat  was  a week  ago.  Den 
de  jedge  tasted  dat  Madary  Mister  Gro- 
cerman  sent,  an’  I ain’t  yerd  nuffin’  ’bout 
goin’  home  since.  Is  you  yerd,  Major  ? ” 


i6o  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


Before  I could  answer,  a shutter  opened 
overhead  and  a voice  came  sifting  down. 

“ O Chad  ! Mix  me  a julep.  And,  Chad, 
bring  an  extra  one  for  the  colonel.  I reckon 
he  ’ll  be  yer  d’reckly.” 

“Yes,  sah,”  replied  Chad,  without  lift- 
ing his  eyes  from  the  pan. 

Then  glancing  up  and  finding  the  blind 
closed  again,  he  said  to  me  in  a half-whis- 
per : — 

“ Colonel  get  his  julep  when  he  ax  fur 
it.  I ain’t  caayin’  no  double  drinks  to  no- 
body. Dis  ain’t  no  camp-meetin’  bar.” 

But  Chad’s  training  had  been  too  thor- 
ough to  permit  of  his  refusing  sustenance 
or  attention  to  any  guest  of  his  master’s,  no 
matter  how  unworthy,  and  it  was  not  many 
minutes  before  he  was  picking  over  “de 
ba’el”  containing  that  peculiar  pungent 
variety  of  plant  so  common  to  the  grave- 
yards of  Virginia. 

Before  the  cooling  beverage  had  been 
surmounted  by  its  delicate  mouthpiece  the 
street  gate  opened  and  the  colonel  walked 
briskly  in. 

“ Ah,  Major ! You  here  ? Jes  the  vehy 
man  we  wanted,  suh  ! Fitz  and  the  Eng- 
lish agent  are  cornin’  to  dinner.  You  have 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  161 


heard  the  news,  of  co’se  ? No  ? Not  about 
the  great  syndicate  absorbin'  the  Garden 
Spots  ? My  dear  suh,  she 's  floated  ! The 
C.  & W.  A.  L.  R.  R.  is  afloat,  suh  ! Proudly 
ridin'  the  waves  of  prosperity,  suh.  Wafted 
on  by  the  breeze  of  success." 

“ What,  bought  the  bonds  ? ” I said, 
jumping  up. 

"Well,  not  exactly  bought  them  out- 
right, for  these  gigantic  operations  are  not 
conducted  in  that  way  ; but  next  to  it,  suh. 
To-day,"  — and  he  brought  his  hand  down 
softly  on  my  shoulder,  — “ to-day,  suh,  they 
have  cabled  their  agent  — the  same  gen- 
tleman, suh,  you  saw  in  my  office  some  time 
ago  — to  make  a searchin'  investigation 
into  the  mineral  and  agricultural  resources 
of  that  section  of  my  State,  with  a view  to 
extendin'  its  railroad  system.  I quote,  suh, 
the  exact  words  : ‘ extendin'  its  railroad  sys- 
tem.’ Think,  my  dear  Major,  of  the  effect 
that  a colossal  financial  concern  like  the 
great  British  syndicate  would  produce  upon 
Fairfax  County,  backed  as  it  is,  suh,  by 
untold  millions  of  stagnant  capital  abso- 
lutely rottin'  in  English  banks  ! The  road 
is  built ! " And  the  colonel  in  his  ex- 
citement opened  his  waistcoat,  and  began 


t62  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


pacing  the  yard,  fanning  himself  vigorously 
with  his  hat. 

Chad  substituted  a palm-leaf  fan  from 
the  hall  table,  and,  producing  a small  tray, 
picked  up  the  frosted  tumbler  and  mounted 
the  three  steps  to  relieve  the  thirsty  guest 
on  the  floor  above. 

As  he  reached  the  last  step  a hand 
stretched  out,  and  a voice  said  : — 

“ Jes  what  I wanted.” 

“Dis  julep,  Jedge,  is  Major  Yancey’s.” 

“All  the  better.”  And  nodding  to  the 
colonel  and  bowing  gravely  to  me,  the 
Hon.  I.  B.  Kerfoot  settled  himself  on  the 
top  of  the  front  steps  with  very  much  the 
same  air  with  which  he  would  have  occu- 
pied his  own  judicial  bench. 

With  the  exception  that  this  julep  was 
just  begun  and  the  other  just  ended,  his 
Honor  presented  precisely  the  same  out- 
ward appearance  as  when  I discovered  him 
asleep  on  the  sofa. 

His  was,  in  fact,  the  extremest  limit  of 
dishabille  permissible  even  on  the  hottest 
of  summer  afternoons  in  the  most  retired 
of  back  yards,  — no  coat,  no  vest,  no  shoes. 
In  one  hand  he  held  a crumpled  collar  and 
a high,  black  silk  stock ; with  the  other  he 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  163 


grasped  the  julep.  His  hair  was  tousled, 
his  face  shriveled  up  and  pinched  by  his 
heavy  nap,  his  eyes  watery  and  vague.  He 
reminded  me  of  the  man  one  sometimes 
meets  in  the  aisle  of  a sleeping-car  when 
one  boards  the  train  at  a way  station  in  the 
night. 

“ I hope  you  have  had  a refreshin’  sleep, 
Jedge,”  said  the  colonel.  “ My  friend  the 
major  here  did  himself  and  me  the  honor 
of  callin’  upon  you,  but  findin’  that  you 
were  restin’,  suh,  he  sought  the  cool  of  my 
co’teyard  until  you  should  awake.” 

His  Honor  looked  at  me  over  the  edge 
of  his  tumbler  and  bowed  feebly.  The 
straw  remained  glued  to  his  mouth. 

“I  have  been  tellin’  him,  suh,  of  the 
extr’o’d’nary  boom  to-day  in  Garden  Spots, 
as  some  of  my  young  friends  call  the  secu- 
’ities  of  my  new  road,  work  upon  which 
will  be  begun  next  week.” 

The  announcement  made  no  impression 
upon  the  judge,  his  face  remaining  sleepily 
stolid  until  that  peculiar  gurgling  sound, 
the  death-rattle  of  a dying  julep,  caused  a 
shade  of  sadness  to  pass  over  it. 

At  that  instant  the  shutter  again  opened 
overhead. 


164  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ Hello,  Colonel ! Home,  are  you  ? 
Chad,  where ’s  my  julep  ? Ah,  Major,  hope 
I see  you  vehy  well,  suh.  Where ’s  Ker- 
foot  ? ” 

That  legal  luminary  craned  his  head  for- 
ward as  far  as  it  would  go  without  neces- 
sitating  any  additional  movement  of  his 
body,  caught  Yancey’s  eye  as  he  leaned 
out  of  the  window,  and  held  up  the  empty 
glass. 

When  everybody  had  stopped  laughing 
the  colonel  made  a critical  but  silent  exam- 
ination of  the  judge,  called  to  Yancey,  and 
said : — 

“ Gentlemen,  we  do  not  dine  until  sevea 
You  will  both  have  ample  time  to  dress.” 


CHAPTER  X 


Chad  in  Search  of  a Coal-Field 

The  colonel  was  the  first  man  down- 
stairs. When  he  entered  I saw  at  a glance 
that  it  was  one  of  his  gala  nights,  for  he 
wore  the  ceremonial  white  waistcoat  and 
cravat,  and  had  thrown  the  accommodating 
coat  wide  open.  His  hair,  too,  was  brushed 
back  from  his  broad  forehead  with  more 
than  usual  care,  each  silver  thread  keep- 
ing its  proper  place  in  the  general  scheme 
of  iron-gray  ; while  his  goatee  was  twisted 
to  so  fine  a point  that  it  curled  upward 
like  a fishhook.  He  had  also  changed  his 
shoes,  his  white  stockings  now  being  in- 
cased in  low  prunellas  tied  with  a fresh 
ribbon,  which  hung  over  the  toes  like  the 
drooping  ears  of  a lapdog. 

The  attention  which  the  colonel  paid  to 
these  particular  details  was  due,  as  he  fre- 
quently said,  to  his  belief  that  a man  would 
always  be  well  dressed  who  looked  after 
his  extremities. 


?66  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


'*  I can  inva’iably,  suh,  detect  the  gentle- 
man under  the  shabbiest  suit  of  clothes,  if 
his  collar  and  stockings  are  clean.  When, 
besides  this,  he  brushes  his  hat  and  blacks 
his  shoes,  you  may  safely  invite  him  to 
dinner.” 

Something  like  this  was  evidently  pass- 
ing in  his  mind  as  he  stood  waiting  for  his 
guests,  his  back  to  the  empty  grate ; for 
he  examined  his  hands  critically,  glanced 
at  his  shoes,  and  then  excusing  himself, 
turned  his  face,  and  taking  a pair  of  scis- 
sors from  his  pocket  proceeded  leisurely  to 
trim  his  cuffs. 

“ These  duties  of  the  dressin’-room,  my 
dear  Major,  should  have  been  attended  to 
in  their  proper  place ; but  the  fact  is  the 
jedge  is  makin’  rather  an  elaborate  toilet 
in  honor  of  our  guest,  and  as  Yancey  occu- 
pies my  bedroom,  and  the  jedge  is  also 
dressin’  there,  my  own  accommodations 
are  limited.  I feel  sure  you  will  excuse 
me.” 

While  he  spoke  the  door  opened,  and 
his  Honor  entered  in  a William  Penn  style 
of  make-up,  ruffled  shirt  and  all.  He  really 
was  not  unlike  that  distinguished  peace- 
maker, especially  when  he  carried  one  of 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  167 


the  coloners  long  pipes  in  his  mouth.  He 
had,  I am  happy  to  say,  since  leaving  the 
front  steps,  accumulated  an  increased 
amount  of  clothing.  The  upper  half  of 
the- familiar  butternut  suit  — the  coat  — 
still  clung  to  him,  but  the  middle  and  lower 
half  had  been  supplanted  by  another  waist- 
coat and  trousers  of  faded  nankeen,  the  first 
corrugated  into  wrinkles  and  the  second 
flapping  about  his  ankles. 

The  colonel  absorbed  him  at  a glance, 
and  with  a satisfied  air  placed  a chair  for 
him  near  the  window  and  handed  him  a 
palm-leaf  fan. 

Last  of  all  came  Yancey  in  a flaming  red 
necktie,  the  only  new  addition  to  his  cos- 
tume— a part,  no  doubt,  of  the  “ chicken 
fixin’s  ” found  by  Chad  in  the  carpet  bag. 

The  breezy  ex-major,  as  he  entered, 
seized  my  hand  with  the  warmth  of  a life- 
long friend  ; then  moving  over  and  encir 
cling  with  his  arm  the  colonel's  coat  collar 
he  lowered  his  voice  to  a confidential  whis- 
per and  inquired  about  the  market  of  the 
day  with  as  much  solicitude  as  though  his 
last  million  had  been  filched  from  him  on 
insufficient  security. 

When,  a few  minutes  later,  the  round- 


l68  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


faced  man,  the  agent  of  the  great  English 
syndicate,  walked  in,  preceded  by  Fitz, 
nothing  could  have  been  more  courtly  than 
the  way  the  colonel  presented  him  to  his 
guests  — pausing  at  every  name  to  re- 
count some  slight  biographical  detail  com- 
plimentary to  each,  and  ending  by  announ- 
cing with  great  dignity  that  his  honored 
guest  was  none  other  than  the  very  confi- 
dential agent  and  adviser  of  a group  of 
moneyed  magnates  whose  influence  ex- 
tended to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth. 

The  agent,  like  many  other  sensible 
Englishmen,  was  a bluff,  hearty  sort  of 
man,  with  a keen  eye  for  the  practical  side 
of  life  and  an  equally  keen  enjoyment  of 
every  other,  and  it  was  not  five  minutes 
before  he  had  located  in  his  round  head 
the  precise  standing  and  qualifications  of 
every  man  in  the  room. 

While  Yancey  amused  him  greatly  as  a 
type  quite  new  to  him,  the  colonel  filled 
him  with  delight.  “ So  frank,  so  courteous, 
so  hospitable  ; quite  the  air  of  a country 
squire  of  the  old  school,”  he  told  Fitz  after- 
ward. 


As  a host  that  night,  the  colonel  was  in 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  169 


his  happiest  vein,  and  by  the  time  the 
coffee  was  served,  had  succeeded  not  only 
in  entertaining  the  table  in  his  own  inim- 
itable way,  but  he  had  drawn  out  from 
each  one  of  his  guests,  not  excepting  the 
reticent  Fitz,  some  anecdote  or  incident 
of  his  life,  bringing  into  stronger  relief  the 
finer  qualities  of  him  who  told  it. 

Kerfoot  in  a ponderous  way  gave  the 
details  of  a murder  case,  tried  before  him 
many  years  ago,  in  which  the  judge's 
charge  so  influenced  the  jury  that  the  man 
was  acquitted,  and  justly  so,  as  was  after- 
ward proved.  Yancey  related  an  incident 
of  the  war,  where  he,  only  a drummer  boy 
at  the  time,  assisted,  at  great  risk,  in  car- 
rying a wounded  comrade  from  the  field. 
And  Fitz  was  forced  to  admit  that  one  of 
the  largest  financial  operations  of  the 
day  would  have  been  a failure  had  he  not 
stepped  in  at  the  critical  moment  and 
saved  it. 

Up  to  this  point  in  the  dinner  not  the 
slightest  reference  had  been  made  to  the 
railroad  or  its  interests  except  by  the  im- 
petuous Yancey,  who  asked  Fitz  what  the 
bonds  would  probably  be  worth,  and  who 
was  promptly  silenced  by  the  colonel  with 


ijo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


the  suggestive  remark  that  none  were  for 
sale,  especially  at  this  time. 

When,  however,  by  the  direction  of  the 
colonel,  the  cloth  was  removed  and  the  old 
mahogany  table  that  Chad  rubbed  down 
every  morning  with  a cork  was  left  with 
only  the  glasses,  a pair  of  coasters  and 
their  decanters,  — the  Madeira  within  reach 
of  the  judge’s  hand,  — the  colonel  rose 
from  his  chair  and  spread  out  on  the  pol- 
ished surface  a stained  and  ragged  map, 
labeled  in  one  corner  in  quaint  letters, 
“ Lands  of  John  Carter,  Esquire,  of  Carter 
Hall.”  Only  then  was  the  colonel  ready 
for  business. 

“This  is  the  correct  survey,  I believe, 
Jedge,”  said  the  colonel. 

The  judge  emptied  his  glass,  felt  all  over 
his  person  for  his  spectacles,  found  them 
in  the  inside  pocket  of  his  nankeen  waist- 
coat, and,  perching  them  on  the  extreme 
end  of  his  nose,  looked  over  their  rims  and 
remarked  that  the  original  deeds  of  the 
colonel’s  estate  had  been  based  upon  this 
map,  and  that,  so  far  as  he  knew,  it  was 
correct.  Then  he  added  : — 

“ The  partition  line  that  was  made  im- 
mejitly  aafter  the  war,  dividin’  the  estate 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  iyt 


between  Miss  Ann  Caarter  and  yo’self, 
Colonel,  was  also  tuk  from  this  survey.” 

Fitz  conferred  with  the  agent  for  a mo- 
ment and  then  asked  the  colonel  where 
lay  the  deposit  of  coal  of  which  he  had 
spoken. 

“In  a moment,  my  dear  Fitz,”  said  the 
colonel,  deprecatingly,  and  turning  to  the 
agent : — 

“The  city  of  Fairfax,  suh,  that  we  dis- 
cussed this  mornin’,  will  be  located  to  the 
right  of  this  section  ; the  Tench  runs  here  ; 
the  iron  bridge,  suh,  should  cross  at  this 
point,”  marking  it  with  his  thumb  nail. 
“ Or  perhaps  you  gentlemen  will  decide  to 
have  it  nearer  the  Hall.  It  is  immaterial 
to  me.” 

Then  looking  at  Fitz  : “ I can’t  locate 
the  coal,  my  dear  Fitz ; but  I think  it  is 
up  here  on  the  hill  at  the  foot  of  the 
range.” 

The  agent  lost  interest  immediately  in 
the  iron  bridge  over  the  Tench,  and  asked 
a variety  of  questions  about  the  deposit, 
all  of  which  the  colonel  answered  courte- 
ously and  patiently,  but  evidently  with  a 
desire  to  change  the  subject  as  soon  as 
possible. 


IJ2  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


The  Englishman,  however,  was  persis- 
tent, while  the  judge’s  last  sententious  re- 
mark regarding  the  recent  subdivision  of 
the  estate  awakened  a new  interest  in  Fitz. 

What  if  this  coal  should  not  be  on  the 
colonel’s  land  at  all ! He  caught  his  breath 
at  the  thought. 

It  was  Fitz’s  only  chance  to  restore  the 
colonel’s  fortunes ; and  although  for  obvi- 
ous reasons  he  dared  not  tell  him  so,  it  was 
really  the  only  interest  the  Englishman 
had  in  the  scheme  at  all. 

Indeed,  the  agent  had  frankly  said  so  to 
Fitz,  adding  that  he  was  anxious  to  locate 
a deposit  of  coal  somewhere  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  line  of  the  colonel’s  proposed  road  ; 
because  the  extension  of  certain  railroads 
in  which  the  syndicate  was  interested  — 
not  the  C.  & W.  A.  L.  R.  R.,  however  — 
depended  almost  entirely  upon  the  pur- 
chase of  this  vital  commodity. 

Full  of  these  instructions  the  agent, 
after  listening  to  a panegyric  upon  the 
resources  of  Fairfax  County,  interrupted 
rather  curtly  a glowing  statement  of  the 
colonel’s  concerning  the  enormous  value  of 
the  Garden  Spot  securities  by  asking  this 
question  : — 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  ly j 


“Are  the  coal  lands  for  sale ?” 

Fitz  shivered  at  its  directness,  fearing 
that  the  colonel  would  catch  the  drift  af- 
fairs were  taking  and  become  alarmed. 
His  fears  were  groundless ; the  shot  had 
gone  over  his  head. 

“ No,  suh ! My  purpose  is  to  use  it  to 
supply  our  shops  and  motive  power.” 

“ If  you  should  decide  to  sell  the  lands  I 
would  make  an  investigation  at  once,”  re- 
plied the  agent,  quietly,  but  with  meaning 
in  his  voice. 

The  colonel  looked  at  him  eagerly. 
“Would  you  at  the  same  timetonsider 
the  purchase  of  our  securities  ? ” 

“I  might.” 

“ When  would  you  go  ? ” 

“To-morrow  night,  or  not  at  alL  I re- 
turn to  England  in  a week.” 

Yancey  and  the  judge  looked  at  each 
other  inquiringly  with  a certain  anxious 
expression  suggestive  of  some  impending 
trouble.  The  judge  recovered  himself  first, 
and  quickly  filled  his  glass,  leaving  but  one 
more  measure  in  the  decanter.  This  meas- 
ure Yancey  immediately  emptied  into  his 
own  person,  as  perhaps  the  only  place 
where  it  would  be  entirely  safe  from  the 
treacherous  thirst  of  the  judge. 


174  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


Fitz  read  in  their  faces  these  mental  pro- 
cesses, and  was  more  determined  than  ever 
to  break  up  at  once  what  he  called  “ the 
settlement.” 

“ Are  you  sho*,  Colonel,”  inquired  Ker- 
foot,  catching  at  straws,  “ that  the  coal 
lands  lie  entirely  on  yo’  father’s  property  ? 
Does  not  the  Barbour  Ian’  jine  yo’s  on  the 
hill?” 

“ I am  not  positively  sho’,  suh,  but  I have 
always  understood  that  what  we  call  the 
coal  hills  belonged  to  my  father.  You  see,” 
said  the  colonel,  turning  to  the  agent,  “ this 
grade  of  wild  Ian’  is  never  considered  of 
much  value  with  us,  and  a few  hundred 
acres  mo’  or  less  is  never  insisted  on  among 
old  families  of  our  standin’  whose  estates 
jine.” 

Yancey  expanded  his  vest,  and  said  au- 
thoritatively that  he  was  quite  sure  the  coal 
hills  were  on  the  Barbour  property.  He 
had  shot  partridges  over  that  land  many  a 
time. 

The  agent,  who  had  listened  calmly  to 
the  discussion,  remarked  dryly  that  until 
the  colonel  definitely  ascertained  whether 
he  had  any  lands  to  sell  it  would  be  a use- 
less waste  of  time  to  make  the  trip. 


colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  775 


“ Quite  so,”  said  Kerfoot,  raising  the 
emptied  decanter  to  his  eye,  and  replacing 
it  again  with  a look  at  Yancey  expressive 
of  the  contempt  in  which  he  held  a man 
who  could  commit  so  mean  an  act. 

“But,  Colonel,”  said  Fitz,  “can't  you 
telegraph  to-morrow  and  find  out  ? ” 

“To  whom,  my  . dear  Fitz?  It  would 
take  a week  to  get  the  clerk  of  the  co'te  to 
look  through  the  records.  Nobody  at  Bar- 
bour's knows.” 

“ Does  Miss  Nancy  know  ? ” 

The  colonel  shook  his  head  dubiously. 
Fitz's  face  suddenly  lighted  up  as  he 
started  from  his  seat,  and  caught  the  colo- 
nel by  the  arm. 

“ Does  Chad  ? ” 

“Chad)  Yes,  Chad  might.” 

Fitz  nearly  overturned  his  chair  in  his 
eagerness  to  reach  the  top  of  the  kitchen 
stairs. 

“Come  up  here,  Chad,  quick  as  your 
legs  can  carry  you  — two  steps  at  a time  ! ” 
Chad  hurried  into  the  room  with  the  face 
of  a man  sent  for  to  put  out  a fire. 

“ Chad,”  said  the  colonel,  “ you  know  the 
big  hill  as  you  go  up  from  the  marsh  at 
home  ? ” 


iy6  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“Yes,  sah.” 

“Whose  Ian’  is  the  coal  on,  mine  or 
Jedge  Barbour’s  ? ” 

The  old  darky’s  face  changed  from  an 
expression  of  the  deepest  anxiety  to  an 
effort  at  the  deepest  thought.  The  change 
was  so  sudden  that  the  wrinkles  got  tan- 
gled up  in  the  attempt,  resulting  in  an 
expression  of  vague  uncertainty. 

“You  mean,  Colonel,  de  hill  whar  we 
cotch  de  big  coon  ? ” 

“Yes,”  said  the  colonel  encouragingly, 
ignorant  of  the  coon,  but  knowing  that 
there  was  only  one  hill. 

“Well,  Jedge  Barbour’s  niggers  always 
said  dat  de  coon  was  dere  coon,  ’ca’se  he 
was  treed  on  dere  1an’,  and  we  ’sputed  dat 
it  was  our  coon,  ’ca’se  it  was  on  our  lan’.” 

“ Who  got  de  coon  ? ” asked  Fitz. 

“ Oh,  we  got  the  coon ! ” And  Chad’s 
eyes  twinkled. 

“ That  settles  it.  It ’s  your  land,  Colo, 
nel,”  said  Fitz,  with  one  of  his  sudden 
roars,  in  which  everybody  joined  but  Chad 
and  the  judge. 

“ But  den,  gemmen,”  — Chad  was  a little 
uncomfortable  at  the  merriment,  — “ it  was 
our  coon  for  sho.  I knowed  whar  de  line 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter  sville  ijj 


went,  'ca'se  I he'p  Marsa  John  caarry  de 
spy-glass  when  he  sold  de  woodlands  to 
Jedge  Barbour,  an'  de  coon  was  on  our  side 
ob  dat  line." 

If  Chad's  first  statement  caused  nothing 
but  laughter,  the  second  produced  nothing 
but  the  profoundest  interest. 

Here  was  the  surveyor  himself ! 

The  colonel  turned  the  map  to  Chad’s 
side  of  the  table.  Every  man  in  the  room 
stood  up  and  craned  his  head  forward. 

“Now,  Chad,"  said  the  colonel,  “this 
map  is  a plan  of  our  Ian'  — same  as  if  you 
were  lookin'  down  on  it.  Here  is  the  road 
to  Caartersville.  See  that  square,  black 
mark  ? That  's  Caarter  Hall.  This  is  the 
marsh,  and  that  is  the  coal  hill.  Now, 
standin'  here  in  the  marsh,  — this  is  where 
our  line  begins,  Fitz,  — standin'  here,  Chad, 
in  the  marsh,  which  side  of  the  line  is  that 
hill  on  ? Mine  or  Jedge  Barbour’s  ? " 

The  old  man  bent  over  the  table,  and 
scanned  the  plan  closely. 

“W'at 's  dis  blue  wiggle  lookin'  like  a 
big  fish-wum  ? ” 

“That 's  the  Tench  River." 

Chad  continued  his  search,  his  wrinkled 
browu  hand,  with  its  extended  forefinger 


1 78  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


capped  by  its  stumpy  nail,  looking  for  all 
the  world  like  a mud  turtle  with  head  out 
crawlipg  over  the  crumpled  surface  of  the 
map. 

“ Scuse  me  till  I run  down  to  de  kitchen 
an’  git  my  spec’s.  I can’t  see  like  ” — 

“ Here,  take  mine ! ” said  Fitz,  handing 
him  his  gold  ones.  He  would  have  lent 
him  his  eyes  if  he  could  have  found  that 
coal-field  the  sooner. 

The  turtle  crawled  slowly  up,  its  head 
thrust  out  inquiringly,  inched  along  the 
margin  of  the  map,  and  backed  carefully 
down  again,  pausing  for  such  running  com- 
mentaries as  “ Dis  yer ’s  de  ribber  ; ” 
“ Dat ’s  de  road ; ” “ Dis  de  ma’sh.” 

The  group  was  now  a compact  mass, 
every  eye  watching  Chad’s  finger  as  though 
it  were  a divining  rod — Fitz  full  of  smoth- 
ered fears  lest  after  all  the  prize  should  slip 
from  his  grasp ; the  agent  anxious  but  re- 
served ; Yancey  and  the  judge  hovering 
between  hope  and  despair,  with  eyes  on  the 
empty  decanter ; and  last  of  all  the  colonel, 
on  the  outside,  holding  a candle  himself,  so 
that  his  guests  might  see  the  better  — the 
least  interested  man  in  the  room. 

Presently  the  finger  stopped,  and  Chad 
looked  up  into  his  master’s  face. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  ijq 


“If  I was  down  dar,  Marsa  George,  jes 
a minute,  I could  tole  ye,  ’ca’se  I reckel- 
member  de  berry  tree  whar  Marsa  John 
had  de  spyglass  sot  on  its  legs.  I held  de 
pole  on  de  rock  way  up  yander  on  de  hill, 
an’  in  dat  berry  rock  Marsa  John  done  cut 
a crotch.” 

“ And  which  way  is  the  crotch  in  the 
rock  from  the  marsh  here?”  asked  Fitz 
eagerly. 

Chad  stood  up,  looked  at  the  plan  glis- 
tening under  the  candlelight,  paused  an 
instant,  then  took  off  the  gold-rimmed 
glasses,  and  handed  them  with  great  defer- 
ence to  Fitz. 

“ ’T  ain’t  no  use,  Marsa  George.  I kin 
go  frough  dat  ma’sh  blindfolded  in  de  night 
an’  cotch  a possum  airy  time  along  airy  one 
ob  dem  fences ; but  dis  yer  foolin’  wid  Ian’s 
on  paper  is  too  much  for  Chad.  ’Fo’  Gawd, 
I doan’  know ! ” 


CHAPTER  XI 


Chad  on  his  own  Cabin  Floor 

The  night  after  the  eventful  dinner  in 
Bedford  Place,  the  colonel,  accompanied 
by  his  guests,  had  alighted  at  a dreary  way 
station,  crawled  into  a lumbering  country 
stage,  and  with  Chad  on  the  box  as  pilot, 
had  stopped  before  a great  house  with 
ghostly  trailing  vines  and  tall  chimneys 
outlined  against  the  sky. 

When  I left  my  room  on  the  following 
morning  the  sunlight  was  pouring  through 
the  big  colonial  window,  and  the  breath  of 
the  delicious  day,  laden  with  the  sweet 
smell  of  bending  blossoms,  floated  in 
through  the  open  blinds. 

Descending  the  great  spiral  staircase 
with  its  slender  mahogany  balusters,  — 
here  and  there  a break,  — I caught  sight 
of  the  entrance  hall  below  with  its  hanging 
glass  lantern,  quaint  haircloth  sofas  lining 
the  white  walls,  and  half-oval  tables  heaped 
with  flowers,  and  so  on  through  the  wide- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  iSt 


open  door  leading  out  upon  a vine-covered 
porch.  This  had  high  pillars  and  low  rail- 
ings against  which  stood  some  broad  set- 
tles — all  white. 

The  colonel,  Fitz,  and  the  English  agent 
were  still  in  their  rooms,  — three  pairs  of 
polished  shoes  outside  their  several  doors 
bearing  silent  witness  to  the  fact,  — and 


the  only  person  stirring  was  a pleasant- 
faced negro  woman  with  white  apron  and 
gay-colored  bandana,  who  was  polishing  the 
parlor  floor  with  a long  brush,  her  little 


182  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


pickaninny  astraddle  on  the  broom  end  for 
weight. 

I pushed  aside  the  hanging  vines,  sat 
down  on  one  of  the  wooden  benches,  and 
looked  about  me.  This,  then,  was  Carter 
Hall! 

The  house  itself  bore  evidence  of  having 
once  been  a stately  home.  It  was  of  plas- 
ter stucco,  yellow  washed,  peeled  and 
broken  in  places,  with  large  dormer  win- 
dows and  sloping  roof,  one  end  of  which 
was  smothered  in  a tangle  of  Virginia 
creeper  and  trumpet  vine  climbing  to  the 
very  chimney-top. 

In  front  there  stretched  away  what  had 
once  been  a well-kept  lawn,  now  a wild  of 
coarse  grass  broken  only  by  the  curving 
line  of  the  driveway  and  bordered  by  a row 
of  Lombardy  poplars  with  here  and  there 
a gap,  — bitten  out  by  hungry  camp-fires. 

To  the  right  rose  a line  of  hills  increas- 
ing in  height  as  they  melted  into  the  morn- 
ing haze,  and  to  the  left  lay  an  old-fash- 
ioned garden,  — one  great  sweep  of  bloom 
With  the  wind  over  it,  and  blowing  your 
way,  you  were  steeped  in  roses. 

I began  unconsciously  to  recall  to  my- 
self all  the  traditions  of  this  once  famous 
house. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  183 


Yes,  there  must  be  the  window  where 
Nancy  waved  good-by  to  her  lover,  and 
there  were  the  flower-beds  into  which  he 
had  fallen  headlong  from  his  horse,  — only 
a desolate  corner  now  with  the  grass  and 
tall  weeds  grown  quite  up  to  the  scaling 
wall,  and  the  wooden  shutters  tightly  closed. 
I wondered  whether  they  had  ever  been 
opened  since. 

And  there  under  my  eyes  stood  the  very 
step  where  Chad  had  helped  his  old  mas- 
ter from  his  horse  the  day  his  sweetheart 
Henny  had  been  purchased  from  Judge 
Barbour,  and  close  to  the  garden  gate  were 
the  negro  quarters  where  they  had  begun 
their  housekeeping.  I thought  I knew  the 
very  cabin. 

And  that  line  of  silver  glistening  in  the 
morning  light  must  be  the  river  Tench, 
and  the  bend  near  the  willows  the  spot 
where  the  colonel  would  build  the  iron 
bridge  with  the  double  span,  and  across  and 
beyond  on  the  plateau,  backed  by  the  hills, 
the  site  of  the  future  city  of  Fairfax. 

I left  my  seat,  strolled  out  into  the  gar- 
den, crossed  the  grass  jeweled  with  dew, 
and  filled  my  lungs  with  the  odor  of  the 
sweet  box  bordering  the  beds,  — a rare  de- 


184  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


light  in  these  days  of  modem  gardens.  Sud* 
denly  I came  upon  a wide  straw  hat  and  a 
broad  back  bending  among  the  bushes.  It 
was  Chad. 

“ Mawnin’,  Major  ; fust  fox  out  de  hole^ 
is  yer  ? Lawd  a massey,  ain’t  I glad  ter  git 
back  to  my  ole  mist’ess  ! Lan’  sakes  alive ! 
I ain’t  slep’  none  all  night  a-th  inkin’  ober 
it.  You  ain’t  seen  my  Henny?  Dat  was 
her  sister’s  chile  rubbin’  down  de  fio\  She 
come  ober  dis  mawnin’  ter  help,  so  many 
folks  here.  Wait  till  I git  a basket  ob  dese 
yer  ole  pink  rose-water  roses.  See  how  I 
snip  ’em  short  ? Know  what  I ’m  gwineter 
do  wid  ’em?  Sprinkle  ’em  all  ober  de 
tablecloth.  I lay  dey  ain’t  nobody  done 
dat  for  my  mist’ess  since  I been  gone. 
But,  Major,”  — here  Chad  laid  down  the 
basket  on  the  garden  walk  and  looked  at 
me  with  a serious  air,  — “I  done  got  dat 
coal  lan’  business  down  to  a fine  p’int.  I 
was  up  dis  mawnin’  ’fo’  daylight,  an’  I foun* 
dat  rock,  an’  de  crotch  is  dar  yit ; I scrape 
de  moss  offen  it  myself  ; an’  I foun’  de  tree 
too.  I ain’t  sayin’  nuffin’,  but  jes  you  wait 
till  after  breakfas’  an’  dey  all  go  out  lookin' 
for  de  coal ! Jes  you  wait,  dat ’s  all  1 Chad ’s 
on  his  own  cabin  flo’  now.  Can’t  fool  dis 
chile  no  mo’.” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  185 


This  was  good  news  so  far  as  it  went. 
Our  sudden  exodus  from  Bedford  Place  had 
been  determined  upon  immediately  after 
Chad’s  dismal  failure  to  locate  the  coal-field : 
Fitz  having  carried  the  day  against  Yancey, 
Kerfoot,  and  even  the  agent  himself,  who 
was  beginning  to  waver  under  the  accumu- 
lation of  uncertainties. 

“ Dat ’s  enough  roses  to  bury  up  de 
dishes.  Rub  yo’  nose  down  in  ’em.  Ain’t 
dey  sweet ! Now,  come  along  wid  me, 
Major.  I done  tole  Henny  ’bout  you  an’  de 
tar’ pins  an’  de  times  de  gemmen  had.  Dis 
way,  Major ; won’t  take  a minute,  an’  ef 
ye  all  go  back  to-night,  — an’  I yerd  Mis- 
ter Englishman  say  he  got  to  go,  — you 
mightn’t  hab  anudder  chance.  Henny ’s 
cookin’,  ye  know.  Dis  way.  Step  under 
dat  honeysuckle ! ” 

I looked  through  an  open  door  and  into 
a dingy,  smoke-dried  interior,  ceiled  with' 
heavy  rafters,  and  hung  with  herbs,  red 
peppers,  onions,  and  the  like.  This  was 
lighted  by  three  small  windows,  and  fur- 
nished with  a row  of  dressers  filled  with 
crockery  and  kitchen  ware,  and  permeated 
by  that  savory  smell  which  presages  a gen- 
erous breakfast  On  one  side  of  the  fire- 


186  Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


place  rested  the  great  hominy  mortar,  cut 
from  a tree  trunk,  found  in  all  Virginia 
kitchens,  and  on  the  other  the  universal 
brick  oven  with  its  iron  doors,  — the  very 
doors,  I thought,  that  had  closed  over 
Chad’s  goose  when  Henny  was  a girl.  Be- 
tween the  mortar  and  the  oven  opened,  01 
rather  caverned,  a fireplace  as  wide  as  the 
colonel’s  hospitality,  and  high  and  deep 
enough  to  turn  a coach  in.  It  really  cov- 
ered one  end  of  the  room. 

Bending  over  the  swinging  crane  hung 
with  pots  and  fringed  with  hooks,  — baited 
so  often  with  good  dinners,  — stood  an 
old  woman  with  bent  back,  her  gray  head 
bound  up  with  a yellow  handkerchief. 

“ Henny,  de  major  made  a special  p’int 
o’  cornin’  to  see  ye  ’fo’  he  gits  his  break- 
fas’.” 

She  looked  up  and  dropped  me  a curt- 
sey. 

“ Mawnin’,  marsa.  I ain’t  much  ter  see, 
I ’m  so  ole  an’  mizzble  wid  dese  yer  cricks 
in  my  back  an’  sich  a passel  o’  white  folks. 
How  did  my  Chad  git  along  up  dar  ’mong 
de  Yankees  ? ” 

I gave  Chad  so  good  a character  that 
every  tooth  in  his  head  came  out  on  dress 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  187 


parade,  and  was  about  to  draw  from  Henny 
some  of  her  own  experiences,  — this  loyal 
old  servant  whose  life  from  her  girlhood  to 
her  old  age  had  been  one  of  the  romantic 
traditions  of  the  roof  that  sheltered  her,  — 
when  Chad,  who  had  gone  out  with  the 
roses,  returned  with  the  news  that  the  colo- 
nel and  his  guests  were  breathing  the  morn- 
ing air  on  the  front  porch,  and  were  much 
disturbed  over  my  prolonged  absence. 


188  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


The  colonel  caught  sight  of  me  as  I 
rounded  the  corner,  Fitz  and  the  agent 
joining  in  his  outburst  of  hilarious  wel- 
come, intoxicated  as  they  all  were  with  the 
elixir  of  that  most  exhilarating  of  all  hours 
— the  hour  before  breakfast  of  a summer 
morning  in  the  country. 

“ Welcome,  my  dear  Major,”  called  the 
colonel;  “a  hearty  welcome  to  Caarter 
Hall ! Come  up  here  where  you  can  get 
a view  of  Fairfax,  suh  ! ” and  by  the  time 
I had  mounted  the  steps  he  was  lean- 
ing over  the  railing,  with  Fitz  on  the  one 
side  and  the  agent  on  the  other,  sweeping 
the  horizon  with  his  index  finger  and  draw- 
ing imaginary  curves  and  building  bridges 
and  locating  railroad  stations  in  the  air 
with  as  much  confidence  and  hope  as  if  he 
really  saw  the  gangs  of  laborers  at  work 
across  the  fields,  their  shovels  glinting  in 
the  dazzling  sunlight. 

“Jes  cast  yo’  eyes,  suh,”  — this  to  the 
agent,  — “ and  tell  me,  suh,  if  you  have 
ever  in  yo’  world -wide  experience  seen 
such  a location  for  a great  city.  Level  as 
a flo',  watered  by  the  Tench,  and  sheltered 
by  a line  of  hills  that  are  beauty  itself  — it 
is  made  for  it,  suh  I ” 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  i8g 


The  agent  did  full  justice  to  the  natural 
advantages  and  then  asked  : — 

“ Is  the  coal  in  that  range  ? ” 

“ No,  suh ; the  coal  is  behind  us  on  an 
outlyin*  spur.  I will  take  you  there  after 
breakfast.,> 

And  then  followed  a brief  description 
of  the  changes  the  war  had  made  in  the 
homestead,  the  burning  of  the  barns,  the 
abandonment  of  the  quarters,  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  lawns  — “A  yard  for  their 
damnable  wagons,  suh ; ” the  colonel  point- 
ing out  with  great  delight  the  very  dent 
in  the  ridge  where  General  Early  had  rid- 
den through  and  captured  the  whole  de- 
tachment without  the  loss  of  a man. 

While  we  were  talking  that  same  rus- 
tling of  silk  that  I had  learned  to  know  so 
well  in  Bedford  Place  was  heard  in  the 
hall,  then  a sweet,  cheery  voice  giving 
some  directions  to  Chad,  and  the  next  in- 
stant dear  aunt  Nancy  — Fitz  and  I had 
long  since  dared  to  call  her  so  — floated 
(she  never  seemed  to  walk)  out  upon  the 
porch  with  a word  and  a curtsey  to  the 
agent,  a hand  each  to  Fitz  and  me,  and  a 
kiss  for  the  colonel. 

Then  came  the  breakfast,  and  such  a 


igo  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


breakfast ! The  outpourings  of  a Virginia 
kitchen,  with  the  table  showered  with 
roses,  and  the  great  urn  shining  and  smok- 
ing, and  the  relays  of  waffles  and  corn- 
bread  and  broiled  chicken  ; all  in  the  old- 
fashioned  dining-room,  with  its  high  wain- 
scoting, spindle  - legged  sideboards,  and 
deep  window  seats  ; the  long  moon-faced 
clock  in  the  corner  — and  the  rest  of  it ! 
After  that  the  quiet  smoke  under  the  vine- 
covered  end  of  the  portico  with  the  view 
towards  Cartersville. 

“ There  comes  the  jedge,”  said  the  colo- 
nel, pointing  to  a cloud  of  dust  following 
a two- wheel  gig,  “and  Major  Yancey  be- 
hind on  horseback.”  (They  had  both  been 
dropped  outside  their  respective  garden 
gates  the  night  before.)  “ Now,  gentle- 
men, as  soon  as  my  attorney  arrives  with 
the  surveys  and  deeds  we  will  adjourn  to 
my  library  and  locate  this  coal-field.” 

Yancey’s  horse  proved,  on  closer  inspec- 
tion, to  be  the  remnant  of  an  army  mule 
with  a moth  - eaten  mane  and  a polished 
tail  bare  of  hair  — worn  off,  no  doubt,  in  a 
lifelong  struggle  with  the  Fairfax  County 
fly.  The  major  was  without  the  luxury  of 
a saddle,  some  one  having  borrowed  the 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  191 


only  one  the  owner  of  the  mule  possessed, 
and  his  breeches,  in  consequence,  were 
half  way  up  his  knees.  The  judge  arrived 
in  better  shape,  the  gig  being  his  own  and 
fairly  comfortable,  — the  same  he  rode  to 


circuit,  a yellow-painted  vehicle  washed 
only  when  it  rained, — and  the  horse  the 
property  of  the  village  livery  man,  who  had 
a yearly  contract  with  his  Honor  for  its 
use. 

Chad  was  waiting  on  the  flagstones  sur- 
rounded by  some  stray  pickaninnies  when 
the  procession  stopped,  and  assisted  the 


ig2  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


major  to  alight,  with  as  much  form  and 
ceremony  as  if  he  had  been  the  best 
mounted  gentleman  in  the  land.  The  sad- 
dleless fragment  was  then  led  to  a support- 
ing fence.  The  judicial  equipage  was  ac- 
corded the  luxury  of  a shed,  where  the 
annual  contract  was  served  with  a full 
measure  of  oats  — Chad’s  recognition  of 
his  more  exalted  station. 

The  judge  bowed  gracefully  and  with 
great  dignity,  and  with  the  air  of  a chief 
justice  entering  the  court  room ; then  pre- 
ceding the  colonel  and  his  guests,  — with- 
out a word  having  fallen  from  his  lips,  — 
he  entered  a small  room  opening  into  the 
parlor.  There  he  placed  upon  a chair 
certain  mysterious-looking  packages,  long 
and  otherwise,  one  a tin  case,  which  he 
uncapped,  spreading  its  contents  upon  a 
table. 

It  proved  to  be  another  and  larger 
map  than  the  one  Chad  had  pored  over, 
and  showed  distinctly  the  boundary  lines 
between  two  dots  marked  “Oak”  and 
“ Rock  ” dividing  the  Carter  and  Barbour 
estates. 

Up  to  this  time  Fitz  and  the  agent  had 
preserved  the  outward  appearance  of  two 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  193 

idle  gentlemen  visiting  a friend  in  the 
country,  with  no  interest  beyond  the  fresh 
air  and  the  environments  of  a charming 
hospitality.  With  the  unrolling  of  this 
map,  however,  and  the  discovery  of  the 
very  boundary  points  insisted  on  by  Chad 
in  Bedford  Place,  their  excitement  could 
hardly  be  suppressed.  The  agent  broke 
loose  first. 

“ Before  we  find  out,  Colonel  Carter,  to 
whom  this  coal  belongs,  which  may  take 
some  valuable  time,  I want  to  examine  the 
quality  of  the  vein  itself.  I would  like  to 
go  now.” 

“ By  all  means,  suh ; and  my  people 
shall  go  with  us,”  said  the  colonel,  turning 
to  Kerfoot  with  instructions  to  bring  Chad 
and  all  the  maps  later. — Yancey  excused 
himself  on  the  ground  of  the  heat.  Then 
donning  a wide  straw  hat  and  picking  up  a 
cane,  — something  he  never  used  in  New 
York,  — the  colonel  led  the  way  through 
the  rear  door,  across  a stone  wall,  and  up 
a hill  covered  with  a second  growth  of  tim- 
ber. 

The  experienced  eye  of  the  Englishman 
took  in  the  lay  of  the  land  at  a glance, 
and  beckoning  Fitz  to  one  side  he  stooped 


tg4  Colonel  Carter  of  CartersviUe 


and  picked  something  from  the  ground 
which  he  examined  carefully  with  a magni- 
fying  glass.  Then  they  both  disappeared 
hurriedly  over  the  hill. 

When  they  returned,  half  an  hour  later, 
the  perspiration  was  rolling  from  the  agent, 
and  Fitz’s  eyes  were  blazing.  Both  were 
loaded  down  with  bundles  of  broken  bits 
of  rock,  tied  up  in  their  several  handker- 
chiefs, large  enough  to  start  a geological 
collection  in  a country  museum. 

“What  is  it,  Fitz  — diamonds?”  I said, 
laughing. 

“ Yes ; black  ones  at  that.”  He  was  al- 
most breathless.  “Solid  bed  of  bitumin- 
ous I Clear  down  to  China ! Don't  breathe 
a word  yet,  for  your  life ! ” 

The  agent  was  calmer.  The  coal-bed, 
he  said,  seemed  to  be  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary richness,  and  as  far  as  he  could  judge 
lay  in  a vein  of  generous  width.  He  was 
ready  for  the  survey,  and  would  like  the 
boundary  points  located  at  once. 

The  next  instant  Chad’s  head  peered 
through  the  tangled  underbrush.  He  car- 
ried the  roll  of  maps,  the  judge,  who  fol- 
lowed, contenting  himself  with  a package 
tied  with  red  tape. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  195 


The  old  darky’s  face  was  one  broad  grin 
from  ear  to  ear. 

The  judge  unrolled  a map  and  placed  it 
on  a flat  rock  with  a stone  at  each  corner. 
Then  he  untied  the  package,  selected  an 
ink-stained  and  faded  document  marked 

Deed  — John  Carter  to  E.  A.  Barbour,” 
and  ran  his  eye  along  the  quaint  page, 
reading  as  he  went : — 

Starting  from  an  oak,  blazed  diamond  C, 
along  a line  S.  E.  to  a rock  marked  C cross 
B,  C -J-  B,  in  all  a distance  of  1437  linear  feet 

“ Now,  Chad,  we  will  fust  find  the  tree,” 
said  the  judge,  looking  around  for  his  map- 
bearer.  “ Where ’s  that  nigger  ? Chad ! " 

The  old  man  had  disappeared  as  com- 
pletely as  if  the  earth  had  swallowed  him 
up.  The  next  minute  we  heard  a faint 
halloo  below  us  near  the  edge  of  a small 
swamp.  A man  was  waving  his  hat  and 
shouting : — 

“ Eve’ybody  come  yer ! ” 

Fitz  started  on  a run,  and  the  agent  and 
I followed  on  the  double-quick.  At  the 
end  of  a crooked  stone  wall,  half  sur- 
rounded by  water,  was  a great  spreading 


jg6  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


oak,  its  branches  reaching  half  way  across 
the  narrow  marsh.  Within  touching  dis- 
tance of  the  yielding  ground  stood  Chad 
pointing  to  a smooth  blaze,  stained  and  over- 
grown with  lichen. 

It  bore  this  mark,  ^ ! 

“It  tallies  to  a dot.  Now,  Chad,  the 
rock ! the  rock ! ” said  Fitz,  hardly  able  to 
contain  himself. 

The  darky  pointed  straight  up  the  hill, 
the  sky  line  of  which  could  be  seen  entire 
from  where  we  stood,  and  indicated  an  iso- 
lated rock  jutting  out  above  the  tree-tops. 

I thought  Fitz  would  have  hugged  him. 

“ How  do  you  know  it  is  the  rock  with 
the  crotch  in  it?  Speak,  you  grinning 
lunatic ! ” 

“ I was  dar  dis  mawnin’  by  daylight.’' 

“What 's  it  marked?”  said  Fitz,  catch- 
ing him  by  both  shoulders.  “ What ’s  it 
marked  ? Quick ! ” 

“Wid  a C an’  a cross  an’  a B — so.” 
And  the  old  man  traced  it  with  his  finger 
in  the  mud. 

“Every  pound  of  coal  on  the  colonel’s 
land ! ” said  Fitz,  with  a yell  that  brought 
his  host  and  Kerfoot  as  fast  as  their  legs 
Gould  carry  them. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter svitte  tg/f 


“ Stop ! ” said  Kerfoot.  “ This  only  set. 
ties  the  Caarter  and  Barbour  division. 
There  was  another  division  here  a year 
ago  between  Miss  Ann  Caarter  and  the 
colonel.  With  that  I am  mo’  familiar,  for 
I drew  the  deeds,  which  are  here,”  holding 
up  a bundle ; “ and  I was  also  present  with 
the  surveyor.  You  are  wrong,  Mr.  Fitz- 
patrick; this  entire  hill  outside  the  Bar- 
bour division  is  Miss  Ann  Caarter’ s,  and 
the  coal  is  on  her  land.  The  colonel’s  por- 
tion is  back  there  along  the  Tench.” 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Englishman's  Check 

An  hour  later  I found  Fitz  flat  on  the 
grass  under  one  of  the  apple-trees  behind 
the  house,  completely  broken  up  by  the 
discoveries  of  the  morning. 

After  all  his  work,  here  was  the  colonel 
worse  off  than  ever.  Nobody  could  tell 
what  a woman  would  do.  Aunt  Nancy 
was  better  than  the  average  (Fitz  was  a 
bachelor),  but  then  she  had  peculiar  old 
family  notions  about  selling  land,  and  ten 
chances  to  one  she  would  not  sell  a foot  of 
it,  and  there  right  in  the  house  sat  a man 
with  his  pocket  full  of  blank  checks,  any 
one  of  which  was  good  for  a million  of 
pounds  sterling.  Even  if  she  did  sell  it, 
she  would  pension  the  dear  old  fellow  off 
on  a stipend  instead  of  an  establishment. 
He  wanted  somebody  to  dig  a hole  and 
cover  Fitzpatrick  up.  Anybody  could  see 
that  the  railroad  scheme  was  deader  than 
a last  year’s  pass,  the  farm  hopeless,  and 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville  199 


the  house  fast  becoming  a ruin.  It  was 
enough  to  make  a man  jump  off  a dock. 

Fitz’s  tirade  was  interrupted  by  Chad, 
who  appeared  with  a message.  The  colo- 
nel wanted  everybody  in  the  library. 

When  we  entered,  the  judge  occupied 
the  head  of  the  table,  surrounded  by  law 
papers,  all  of  which  were  opened.  The 
agent  was  bending  over  him,  reading  atten- 
tively, and  entering  extracts  in  his  note- 
book. Every  one  became  seated. 

“Mr.  Fitzpatrick,”  said  the  agent,  “I 
have  spent  an  hour  with  Judge  Kerfoot 
going  over  the  title  of  this  property,  and  I 
am  prepared  to  make  a proposition  for  its 
purchase.  I have  reduced  it  to  writing,” 
— picking  up  a half-sheet  of  foolscap  from 
the  table,  — “ and  I submit  it  to  the  owners 
through  you.” 

Fitz  read  it  without  changing  a muscle, 
and  handed  it  to  the  colonel.  Yancey  and 
the  judge  craned  forward  to  catch  the  first 
syllables. 

The  colonel  read  it  to  the  end,  getting 
paler  and  paler  as  its  meaning  became 
clear,  and  then,  with  a certain  pathos  in  his 
voice  that  was  childlike,  it  was  so  genuine, 
said:  — 


300  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


“ If  this  is  accepted,  I presume,  suh,  you 
will  not  look  any  further  into  my  road  ? ” 

“You  are  right.  My  instructions  cover 
only  the  purchase  of  this  deposit.  I have 
room  for  only  one  operation.” 

The  colonel  rose  from  his  chair,  steadied 
himself  on  the  low  window-sill,  and  looked 
out  across  the  Tench.  The  siience  was 
oppressive  — only  the  ticking  of  the  clock 
in  the  next  room  and  the  bees  among  the 
flowers  outside. 

“ Wait  until  I return,”  he  said,  crumpling 
the  paper. 

In  a moment  he  was  back,  leading  in  his 
aunt  by  the  hand.  Miss  Nancy  entered 
with  a half-puzzled  look  on  her  face,  which 
deepened  into  certain  anxiety  as  she  began 
to  realize  the  pronounced  formality  of  the 
proceedings.  The  colonel  cleared  his  throat 
impressively. 

“Nancy,  an  investigation  begun  in  New 
York  by  my  dear  friend  Fitz,  and  com- 
pleted here  to-day,  results  in  the  discov’ry 
that  what  you  have  always  considered  as 
slight  outcroppin’s  of  coal,  and  wuthless,  is 
really  of  vehy  great  value.”  The  colonel 
here  unbuttoned  his  coat,  and  threw  out  his 
chest.  “A  syndicate  of  English  capital 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  201 


ists  have,  through  our  guest,  offered  you 
the  sura  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
for  the  coal-hill,  with  a royalty  of  ten  cents 
per  ton  for  every  ton  mined  over  a certain 
amount,  one  thousand  dollars  to  be  paid 
now  and  the  balance  on  the  search  of  title 
and  signin’  of  the  contract.  I believe  I 
have  stated  it  correctly,  suh  ? ” 

The  agent  bowed  his  head,  and  scruti- 
nized Miss  Nancy’s  face  with  the  eye  of  a 
hawk. 

The  dear  lady  sank  into  a chair.  For 
a moment  she  lost  her  breath.  Yancey 
handed  her  a fan  with  a quickness  of  move- 
ment never  seen  in  him  before,  and  the 
colonel  continued : — 

“This  will  of  course  still  leave  you, 
Nancy,  this  house  and  about  half  of  the 
farm  property  transferred  to  you  by  me  at 
the  fo’closure  sale.” 

The  little  woman  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  in  a dazed  sort  of  way,  and  her  eye 
rested  on  Fitz. 

“What  shall  I do,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick?  It 
seems  to  me  a grave  step  to  sell  any  part 
of  the  estate.” 

Fitz  blushed  at  the  mark  of  her  con- 
fidence, and  said  that  with  the  royalty 


202  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


clause  he  thought  the  proposition  a favor- 
able one. 

“And  you,  George?”  turning  to  the 
colonel. 

The  colonel  bowed  his  head.  He  must 
advise  its  acceptance. 

“ When  do  you  want  an  answer,  sir  ? ” 

“To-day,  Madam,”  said  the  Englishman, 
who  had  not  taken  his  eyes  from  her  face. 

“You  shall  have  it  in  half  an  hour,”  she 
said  gently,  then  rose  hastily,  and  left  the 
room. 

I looked  at  the  colonel.  Whatever  great 
wave  of  disappointment  had  swept  over 
him  when  his  own  idol  was  broken,  there 
was  no  trace  of  it  in  his  face.  Even  the 
change  this  sudden  influx  of  wealth  into 
the  family  might  make  in  his  own  condition 
never  seemed  to  have  crossed  his  mind. 
He  did  not  follow  her.  He  simply  waited. 
Between  his  own  plans  and  his  aunt’s  good 
fortune  there  was  but  one  course  for  him. 

The  room  took  on  the  whispered  silence 
of  a court  awaiting  an  overdue  jury.  Fitz 
was  still  incredulous  and  still  anxious,  say- 
ing to  me  in  an  undertone  that  he  felt  sure 
she  would  either  refuse  it  altogether  or 
couple  it  with  some  conditions  that  the 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  20 3 


agent  could  not  accept ; either  would  be 
fatal.  Yancey  and  the  judge,  who  had 
been  partly  paralyzed  at  the  rapidity  of  the 
transaction,  conferred  in  a corner,  while 
the  agent  proceeded  to  make  a copy  of  the 
proposition  with  as  much  composure  as  if 
he  bought  a coal-mine  every  day.  The 
colonel  sat  by  himself,  his  chair  tilted  back, 
his  eyes  half  closed. 

In  the  midst  of  this  uncertainty  Chad 
entered  with  a message.  “ Miss  Nancy 
wants  de  colonel.”  In  five  minutes  more 
he  entered  with  another.  Miss  Nancy 
wanted  Fitz  and  me. 

We  followed  the  old  servant  up  the  wind- 
ing staircase  and  down  the  long  hall,  past 
the  old-fashioned  wardrobe  and  the  great 
chintz-covered  lounge,  waited  until  Chad 
knocked  gently,  and  entered  the  dear  lady’s 
bedroom. 

She  sat  near  the  window  by  the  side  of 
the  high  post  bedstead,  rocking  gently  to 
and  fro.  The  colonel  was  standing  with 
his  back  to  the  light,  coat  open,  thumbs  in 
his  armholes,  face  beaming. 

“ I sent  for  you,”  she  began,  “ because  I 
want  you  both  to  hear  my  answer  before 
I inform  the  agent.  The  land  only  was 


204  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


mine,  and  but  for  your  love  and  devotion 
to  the  colonel  would  still  be  a wild  hill. 
The  coal,  therefore,  belongs  to  him.  Go 
and  tell  the  Englishman  I accept  his 
offer.  The  land  and  all  the  coal  I give'  to 
George.” 

When,  an  hour  later,  the  transaction  was 
complete,  the  receipts  and  preliminary  con- 
tracts signed,  and  the  small,  modest-looking 
check  — the  first  instalment  — had  been 
transferred  from  the  plethoric  bank-book 
of  the  agent  to  the  narrow,  poverty-stricken 
pocket  of  the  colonel,  and  the  fact  began 
to  dawn  simultaneously  upon  everybody 
that  at  last  the  dear  old  colonel  was  inde- 
pendent, an  enthusiasm  took  possession  of 
the  room  that  soon  became  uncontrollable. 

Fitz  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and  began 
hugging  him  in  a way  that  endangered 
every  rib  in  his  body,  calling  out  all  the  time 
that  he  had  never  felt  so  good  in  all  the  days 
of  his  life.  Yancey  and  Kerfoot,  who  had 
stood  one  side  appalled  by  the  magnitude 
of  the  sum  paid,  and  who  during  the  sign- 
ing of  the  papers  had  looked  at  the  colonel 
with  the  same  sort  of  silent  awe  with  which 
they  would  have  regarded  any  other  po- 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  205 


tentate  rolling  in  estates,  mines,  and  mil- 
lions, broke  through  the  enforced  reserve, 
and  exclaimed,  with  an  outburst,  that  the 
South  was  looking  up,  and  that  a true 
Southern  gentleman  had  come  into  his 
own,  the  judge  adding  with  emphasis  that 
the  colonel  had  never  looked  so  much  like 
his  noble  father  as  when  he  stooped  over 
and  signed  that  receipt.  Even  the  Eng- 
lishman, hard,  practical  fellow  that  he  was, 
congratulated  him  on  his  good  fortune  in  a 
few  short  words  that  jumped  out  hot  from 
his  heart. 

With  this  atmosphere  about  him  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  that  the  colonel  lost  the 
true  inwardness  of  the  situation.  The  fact 
that  his  aunt’s  boundary  line  included  every 
acre  of  valuable  land  on  the  plantation, 
while  his  own  poor  portion  only  bordered 
the  Tench,  was  to  him  simply  one  of  those 
trifling  errors  which  sometimes  occur  in 
the  partition  of  vast  landed  estates.  And 
although  when  the  gift  was  made  he  felt 
more  than  ever  her  loving  - kindness,  he 
could  not  now,  on  more  mature  reflection 
and  after  hearing  the  encomiums  of  his 
friends,  really  see  how  she  could  have  pur- 
sued any  other  course. 


206  Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville 


And  yet,  with  the  sale  accomplished  and 
he  rich  beyond  his  wildest  dreams,  he  was 
precisely  the  same  man  in  bearing,  manner, 
and  speech  that  he  had  been  in  his  impe- 
cunious days  in  Bedford  Place.  He  was 
rich  then  — in  hopes,  in  plans,  in  the  reality 
of  his  dreamland.  He  was  no  richer  now. 
The  check  in  his  pocket  made  no  differ- 
ence. 

The  only  perceptible  change  was  when 
he  recounted  to  me  his  plans  for  the  res- 
toration of  the  homestead  and  the  com- 
fort of  its  inmates.  “I  shall  rebuild  the 
barns  and  cabins,  and  lay  out  a new  lawn. 
The  po’ch  ” — looking  up  — “ needs  some 
repairs,  and  the  ca’iage-house  must  be  en- 
larged. The  coaching  days  are  not  over 
yet,  Major;  Nancy  must  have”  — 

Chad,  entering  with  a luncheon  for  the 
exhausted  circle,  diverted  the  colonel’s  train 
of  thought,  cutting  short  his  summary.  For 
a moment  he  watched  his  old  servant  mus- 
ingly, then  following  him  into  the  next  room 
he  called  him  to  one  side,  and  with  marked 
tenderness  in  his  manner  unfolded  the  Eng- 
lishman’s check. 

The  old  servant  put  down  the  empty 
tray,  adjusted  his  spectacles,  and  examined 
it  carefully. 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville  207 


“ What ’s  dis,  Marsa  George  ? ” 

“ A thousand  dollars,  Chad.” 

“ Golly ! Monst’ous  quare  kind  o’  money. 
Jes  a scrap.  Ain’t  big  enough  to  wad  a 
gun,  is  she  ? An’  Misser  Englishman  gib 
ye  dis  for  dat  ole  brier  patch  ? ” 

Chad  was  trembling  all  over,  full  to  the 
very  eyelids. 

The  colonel  held  out  his  hand.  The  old 
servant  bent  his  head,  his  master’s  hand 
fast  in  his.  Then  their  eyes  met. 

“ Yes,  Chad,  for  you  and  me.  There’s 
no  hard  work  for  you  any  mo’,  old  man. 
Go  and  tell  Henny.” 

That  night  at  dinner,  Fitz  on  the  colo- 
nel’s right,  the  Englishman  next  to  aunt 
Nancy,  Kerfoot,  Yancey,  and  I disposed  in 
regular  order,  Chad  noiseless  and  attentive, 
the  colonel  arose  in  his  chair,  radiant  to 
the  very  tip  ends  of  his  cravat,  and,  in  a* 
voice  which  trembled  as  it  rose,  said  : — 

“ Gentlemen,  the  events  of  the  day  have 
unexpectedly  brought  me  an  influx  of 
wealth  far  beyond  my  brightest  anticipa- 
tions. This  is  due  in  great  measure  to  the 
untirin’  brain  and  vast  commercial  resources 
of  my  dear  friend  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  who  has 


208 


Colonel  Carter  of  Carter sville 


labored  with  me  durin’  my  sojourn  Nawth 
in  the  development  of  these:  properties,  and 
who  now,  with  that  unselfishness  which 
caaracterizes  his  life,  refuses  to  accept  any 
share  in  the  result. 

“They  have  also  strengthened  the  tie 
existin’  between  my  old  friend  the  major 
on  my  left,  who  oftentimes  when  the  day 
was  darkest  has  cheered  me  by  his  counsel 
and  companionship. 

“ But,  gentlemen,  they  have  done  mo’.” 
The  colonel’s  feet  now  barely  touched  the 
floor.  “ They  have  enabled  me  to  provide 
for  one  of  the  loveliest  of  her  sex,  — she 
who  graces  our  boa’d,  — and  to  enrich  her 
declinin’  days  not  only  with  all  the  comforts, 
but  with  many  of  the  luxuries  she  was  bawn 
to  enjoy. 

“ Fill  yo'  glasses,  gentlemen,  and  drink 
to  the  health  of  that  greatest  of  all  bless- 
ings, — a true  Southern  lady ! ” 


*****  ^ 


A'1 


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